Wondrous Misfortune
by theoverlyenthusiasticwriter
Summary: A little bit of a twist on the Bone Carver's prediction: With personalities, egos, and wits bigger than the largest of their wingspans, the children of the Inner Circle might just eat each other alive rather than become friends. This is a story of hate, of love, of startling realization that the world is so vastly beautiful and incredibly terrifying and theirs for the taking.
1. Chapter 1

They were walking along the Sidra when it happened.

Feyre collapsed.

Rhysand caught her just barely, panic rising at a dizzying speed. Ever since she'd casually told him she was pregnant, he'd not left her side, setting their duties on the rest of the inner circle, despite her protests.

She wasn't even half way through the year long fae pregnancy, but she gripped the bottom of the small hump in her stomach, gritting her teeth.

Rhysand felt her pain through the bond and was about to shout for a healer but she grasped his arm-hard. "Don't-" she gasped. "It's just cramps."

He bit his lip and carried her home.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

It was less than a week later when Rhysand ignored her protests and called a healer. There had been blood in her underwear and the cramps had only gotten worse.

Madja was immediately rushed to the scene, the inner circle looming like vultures outside of the room. Rhysand knelt by the bed when she came in, a hand carefully on Feyre's stomach, protecting the little boy growing within. Feyre had tears in her eyes from the pain, and desperately covered his hand with her own.

Madja swept into the room, slamming the door before Mor could push her way in. "Tell me what's happened."

Rhysand did, and the parts he couldn't explain Feyre did. Madja's face was a cool mask of stone throughout it all and she nodded only once. "High Lord, I need you to leave."

"Excuse me-" Rhysand was instantly on his feet, but Feyre's hold on his hand kept him from launching himself at the healer.

"I can't have you distracting me or the lady and peering over my shoulder like a mad cat. You may wait outside with the others."

"But-"

"Rhys," Feyre said, sitting up and wincing. She laid her palm against his cheek. "Please. I'll be fine. We'll be fine."

Rhys silently battled with himself, knowing damn well that the healer couldn't kick him out but Feyre could. He looked desperately at his mate but she held no pity.

He thought instead of the image the Bone Carver had given Feyre, the child that would be there's no matter what. That glimpse into the future. "Okay," he said, kissing his mate only once. He kissed her belly too. "Okay," he said again and left.

The moment the door closed behind him, he was bombarded with questions. Mor and Cassian leapt first, Azriel trying to sneak his shadows passed the shield Feyre had put around the room. Amren grabbed the door handle but it was already locked. Nesta only stared blankly.

Elain and Lucien had gone to the Day Court to raise their two children, but they would no doubt be packing depending on how today went. Elain also wanted to be there for the birth but Feyre wasn't due for another eight months.

Rhys didn't know what to say to his family, didn't know what to say to himself. So he only sat against the door and waited.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

It had been a while since she'd shut him out like this-out of her mind, out of their bedroom. Rhysand paced outside of the door, knowing damn well he could break it or winnow inside, but also knowing damn well Feyre would hate him for it.

"Feyre darling," he pleaded to the closed door, "please, let me in."

Only silence answered him.

It had been hours-hours. It was noon when Madja came and nearly eight now.

After Madja had left without answering anything, the door had stayed closed. Rhys held onto fragile hope but feared the worst the moment the door opened again.

The inner circle didn't ask any questions and neither did Rhysand when he saw Feyre's face.  
"I need to talk to you."

Rhys nodded, slipping with her into the room. He closed the door.

His mate stared at the floor between them, lips wobbling slightly. It was only when he wrapped his arms around her that she truly began to cry. "He's gone," she whispered into his chest.

Part of him knew, but the words didn't quite strike until he looked over her shoulder and saw that there was blood on the sheets.

"It was a miscarriage," she said and, like a dam breaking from too much pressure, he began to cry too.


	2. Chapter 2

Nesta wrung her fingers as she waited for Cassian to return home. The loss of Feyre's child had left them all numb, even her, but in the weeks that followed the news, things slowly returned to normal. Even if a little bit of life had vanished from her sister's eyes. From Rhysand's.

She readjusted a fork that was slightly crooked on the table. Tonight was one of the rare nights that she'd made dinner-steak cooked to Cassian's liking and mashed potatoes. It was the same thing she'd made for him when they'd mated. She'd also gone so far as to place a candle in the middle of the dining table and wear her favorite dress.

Still, though, she was nervous.

When the door finally opened, she leapt to her feet. Cassian shrugged off his coat as he strode inside, closing the door against the winter wind.

Nesta wrinkled her nose. "Don't you dare track mud all over the house."

He sighed as this was routine and unlaced his boots. Nesta probably would have also made him shower first but he already caught sight of the table behind her. "You made dinner, you beautiful woman." He leaned in to kiss her but she sidled out of reach, sitting down at the table.

They were going to leave for the Summer Court tomorrow to discuss trade and Nesta had threatened Tarquin in a pleasantly worded letter that she'd slit his throat if he didn't let Cassian come along.

The High Lord had agreed.

"I figured because we're leaving tomorrow… ," Nesta started but Cassian had already collapsed at the table, digging into his potatoes.

"Thank you so much. This is delicious," he said around his spoon.

Nesta cut her meat slowly, suddenly not hungry. "Have you packed yet? We'll be there for a week."

He nodded, pausing his eating to train his eyes on her. "I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye today. One of the camp leaders was giving Rhys shit so I got called in early."

"It's fine." Normally, Nesta would leave with him to help Feyre work through the mounds of paperwork. And since Nesta always got home before Cassian did, he had no idea that she'd taken the day off. "I wasn't feeling well this morning anyway."

"What?" He set down his spoon. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm fine, Cas-"

"But you were sick."

"It was only-"

"Nesta-"

"There's nothing you could have done."

"Like hell there was-"

"It was morning sickness."

Silence.

Nesta felt his shock through the bond.

He said slowly, "But I thought you'd been taking the pill."

"Madja said the pill doesn't always work." She stared at him with a spine as straight as a metal rod, waiting for him to close his gaping mouth.

"You're pregnant?" he whispered in disbelief.

"Yes."

His chest rose and fell in mighty heaves. Before he could say anything else, Nesta said, "We can get rid of it, if you want. If you're not ready yet."

More silence. He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. "You're-you don't want to keep it?"

"We've never discussed children before."

"That's not what I'm asking. Do you want to keep our child, Nesta?"

She didn't know she'd started shaking until her fork scraped against her plate and fell from her stiff fingers. "I-I do."

His face-oh, that handsome face-broke into a grin.

Before she could so much as blink, she was in his arms and flying through the air as he twirled her. And just like that, Nesta let herself feel the joy that ran down the bond. Let herself bathe in it.

When Cassian finally put her down, it was she who kissed him. She tugged on the edges of his hair until his mouth was on hers, tongues and lips and teeth colliding like stars.

But then Cassian pulled back and looked at her plate. "You need to eat."

Nesta rolled her eyes and kissed him again.

Then she was being lifted and Cassian carried her up the stairs, down the hall, and into their bedroom, all without breaking their kiss. He set her down on the bed before pulling away. She made a whining noise that had only ever reached his ears but he was already retreating back into the dining room. He came back with her plate, but when he tried to feed her, she almost threw the fork at him. "I'm pregnant for two days and you're already an overbearing mother hen." He hadn't even been this bad when she was on her period, though, to be fair, she had thrown a chair at him.

"Two days? You didn't tell me for two days?"

"Oh no," she said as he waved a piece of steak in front of her lips.

"Oh, yes. It only gets worse from here, Nesta sweetheart."

Nesta took the steak, chewed, and glared at him.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a physical effort for Nesta to get out of bed. Her stomach, swollen so much that she'd forgotten what her toes looked like, made many tasks a particular pain. But she'd be damned if she was going to wake Cassian up to help her to the bathroom.

She was only weeks from her due date and thoroughly tired of being pregnant. It was only the thought of the lives growing in her womb and Cassian that kept her from tearing out her stomach.

Yes, Madja had told them months ago that there wouldn't be just one child for them to care for, but two. Nesta only hoped they were boys-girls were bitches.

Nesta swung her legs over the side of the bed, rocking her body so she could plop soundlessly on her feet. She waddled over to the bathroom, relieved herself, then waddled back.

Cassian was awake when she returned, and sitting upright in bed. He rubbed at his eyes, yawning loudly. "What are you craving, sweetheart?" he asked at last. When she made to climb back in bed, he beat her to it, lifting her onto the mattress. She glared at him. "Strawberry cake."

"With buttermilk frosting?"

She nodded. Cassian's cake was to die for, but strawberry was her particular favorite.

He arched an eyebrow. "You sure? You're looking a little fat there."

She threw a pillow at him. "That's your fault. Now get me my cake, slave."

He laughed but slid effortlessly off the bed. "Come shower with me first."

"No."

"Nesta, you haven't bathed in three days."

"It's tiring."

He grabbed her hand, pulling her knuckles to his slightly chapped lips. "I'll wash you and massage you after."

"What about my cake?"

"Okay, okay. Cake, then shower."

Nesta grinned in triumph.

She felt Cassian's eyes on her as she waddled out of the room and down the stairs. She had prevented him from carrying her after manalically holding a knife to her belly until he promised not to. It probably wasn't the craziest thing she'd done while pregnant, but it was high on the scoreboard.

None of her dresses fit anymore and the maternity ones barely did so most days she just waltzed around in a tank top and Cassian's underwear.

However, Elain was in town now and visited nearly everyday. Feyre and, surprisingly Azriel, also came often enough that the blinds were shut when she wasn't properly dressed. Today, though, she wore one of her better fitting dresses and went to one the blinds.

The early morning light felt glorious on her pale skin and she wriggled slightly in front of the window.

Cassian, retrieving the batter he had made last night, barked out a laugh. "What are you doing?"

"The sunlight is pretty."

"You look like a deranged worm."

Nesta flipped him off over her shoulder.

Feeling light on her feet, she wandered back over to the counter and sat at a barstool, watching her mate. He deftly seperated and poured the batter and set it in the oven, moving on to make the frosting. She tracked his movements through the kitchen-eased and practiced.

She didn't realize she was crying until she sniffled and Cassian dropped his wisk. He was instantly there, wiping away her tears, but they kept coming. "What is it? What is it, sweetheart?"

"You're going-going to be such a great dad," she sobbed.

He blew out a breath, wrapping her in his arms. "Don't worry, they'll have a great mom too."

"I'm not-" A sob. "They'll hate me."

"Oh, my love, that's ridiculous. They'll love you so, so much. Almost as much as I do."

She sniffled. "You think?"

"I know." He ran his fingers through her hair. "Do you want me to finish the frosting? I'll let you lick the bowl."

She nodded. "I used to-" A hiccup. "-get strawberry cake for my birthday. It was the only thing I liked about it."

"I know, sweetheart. You tell me everytime."

"Oh. I hate being pregnant."

"You also say that."

Nesta giggled, which was a very un-Nesta like thing to do. She was going to curse these kids sound for making her like this.

Cassian pulled away and she let him continue in peace. The cake cooked faster thanks to the way he kept throwing his magic at it, heating it even more. It also cooled faster when he retrieved it so he could spread the frosting.

"Hey, Cassian," Nesta said mildly while he hummed, evening out the sugary goodness.

"Hmm?"

"My water broke."

The spreading knife dropped to the floor. "Oh."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

It was not an easy birth-births. But between contractions, Nesta got to eat her cake, laced with whatever drugs Madja deemed necessary.

The Inner Circle was gathered throughout the house. Nesta only knew this my the murmur of conversation and the fact that one of Elain's girls had barged in, asking where her sister was hiding.

Cassian had then gently ushered the girl out while Nesta had trembled from another contraction.

It was the most painful thing Nesta had ever experienced. She actually injured Cassian's hand from squeezing it too hard but an extra healer had reset and healed the bones. Nesta'd then burst into tears and blubbered out apology after apology before biting her lip when he kissed her brow reassuringly.

It wasn't long after that that she'd cursed him over and over again for making her pregnant in the first place and vowed never to have sex with him again.

He laughed out loud.

Nesta had screamed when the first baby came out in one mighty push, then screamed louder when the next one did, exactly twenty minutes later. Then she'd collapsed onto the sweat and blood dampened sheets.

She awoke only seconds later to the sound of a babies cries and then to the sound of her mate's. He was holding two squirming bundles, weeping and smiling at the same time. Nesta wished then for Feyre's paint if only so she could record the moment in all its poetic beauty.

Cassian looked up gently, so very gently, passed one of the bundles over to Nesta.

Nesta had never believed in love at first sight but she would tear down every wall in herself, lose everything she owned, take a knife to her own heart, for this child in her arms.

It was a boy. And the one Cassian held-a girl.

Nesta started crying.

She took the girl from Cassian, sobbing slightly. Cassian came to sit in front of her on the bed, pulling her-all of them-into his large arms. Together, Nesta and Cassian sat that way for what could have been ages, staring at the two children.

"They need names," Cassian whispered after a while.

"I know."

But with them so young, Nesta was afraid to taint their existence with such a strong thing as names. They had already picked some out-two boy names and two girl names-but they had never thought of the possibility of having a boy and a girl. Now they had to choose a name from each category which was more difficult than it seemed.

There was a polite knock on the door but neither of them bothered to answer it. The door creaked open and then Feyre and Rhysand were there, gaping at them.

Nesta looked up at last and saw the tears shining in her sister's eyes. In Nesta's arms, the babes began to squirm.

"Can I… ?" Feyre asked, unable to form full sentences.

Nesta hesitated. Now that she was holding them, she didn't ever want to give them up.

"I-they. I-" She couldn't speak. Couldn't deny her sister this, who had lost a child of her own. Who now had that careful fragile hope in her eyes.

"They're hungry," said Cassian, pointing out the way the boy kept opening and closing his rosebud lips, searching for his mother's breasts while the girl just peered in confusion around the room. Her eyes-oh gods those eyes-one was the clear hazel of her mate and the other was cornflower, baby blue.

The boy's were the exact same and his tongue darted out still searching.

"At least tell us there names?" Rhysand asked, kneeling before the bed. The boy stared quizzically at him.

Cassian and Nesta exchanged a glance.

"Titus," Nesta said to the boy.

"Aralyn," Cassian said to the girl.

And Nesta could have sworn her high lord and lady trembled in response.


	4. Chapter 4

Three years later:

Nesta brushed off the chill of winter as she stepped through the threshold of her home, hanging her coat up by the door. Cassian had stayed home today, claiming to be "dying" and "puking up buckets." He only had a small cold but Nesta secretly knew he wanted to watch the twins.

So she'd asked Azriel to make sure they didn't tear down the house and to keep Cassian in bed for "healing."

Nesta followed the sound of giggles into the family room, and started to wonder if having Azriel over was the best idea.

Titus and Aralyn were butt naked and covered in batter. Cassian and Az tried to corral them, their own arms covered, to no prevail. Nesta watched in amusement as Titus clung to the ceiling fan, his wings fluttering delicately, lips wobbling. Aralyn, however, darted under her father's legs and ran, squealing like a newborn hog, up the stairs, bringing Az thundering after her. Both Aralyn and Titus had changed eye color so the hazel remained their only similarity. Aralyn's blue eye was now the same shade as Nesta's, but Titus's was the Illyrian violet that Rhys had.

Titus, noticing his mother's return, leapt from the fan. Nesta caught him expertly, holding him away from her as she examined the strawberry batter covering him.

"Sweetheart!" Cassian said. "You're home early."

"I thought I told you to stay in bed and Azriel to give them a bath."

In her arms, Titus cringed, reaching to cling further to his mother.

Cassian echoed his cringe. "You see, I was feeling better so I was going to bathe them myself, but they are very slippery. And then I promised we could bake cupcakes as bribery, but they were having a little too much fun."

Nesta narrowed her eyes, setting Titus down on the plush carpet. He only latched on to her leg. "Sick people aren't supposed to be baking."

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, eyes fixed on their son. "Like I said, I was feeling a little better and I wanted to surprise my mate."

From upstairs, there was a loud shriek, and Azriel came down, holding a squirmy Aralyn.

"Mommy!" Aralyn cried, trying to wriggle free of her uncle.

Nesta sighed, kissing her brow once, which was enough to calm her down. Titus, noticing the kiss, reached his arms upward. "Kiss! Kiss!"

Nesta knelt and kissed his brow too. Went she straightened, she eyed her mate. "Get them cleaned up and dressed. We're having dinner at the House of Wind tonight." With that, she handed off Titus and strode up the stairs.

Running her hands over her face, she made her way to her bathroom, pulling out hair pins as she went. She twisted the faucet above the tub to as hot as it would go and poured in her favorite oils. Soon, she was naked and sinking into the delicious heat, groaning louder than was appropriate.

It was still amazing that she could even use the tub. Could bathe in it without the nightmares flooding in. Though, she supposed it was Cassian who helped her with that. He'd installed a shower but when she asked him to, together they faced the bathtub.

Opening her eyes at the sound of the door, she saw Cassian there, a quiet smile on his face. He sat by the tub, finding a pin she had somehow missed in her hair and tugging it free. "How was work?"

Besides helping Feyre, Nesta also worked at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, managing the pounds of money they got in a day.

She sighed as Cassian poured some of the water over her hair. "I was the only one in my department there today, but I supposed it could have been worse. It would have been better, however-" She glared at him. "-if I'd come home to clean kids and cupcakes."

He winced. "The cupcakes are in the oven now."

"Hmm." She closed her eyes again, letting the steam waft against her face.

He leaned forward to kiss her lips, gently, slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"I hope you know that Aralyn wants a bath now that you're in here."

Nesta made a face. "She can bathe in her own bathroom, thank you very much."

Cassian let out a low chuckle.

She tugged on his hand. "Az is watching them downstairs, right?"

"Yes."

"Join me."

He gave a devilish grin and levered himself into the tub, clothes and all.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Nesta buttoned up Aralyn's coat all the way to her chin and put her gloves over her fingers. Cassian was busy wrapping Titus in a scarf too big for his small neck.

Az, munching on a cupcake, watched rather unhelpfully.

"Can we leave?" Aralyn groaned. "It's too hot."

"It's a very cold flight. Uncle Az is gonna carry you two," Cassian said, trying to fix a cap over Titus's midnight hair.

"I can fly!" Aralyn shouted, trying to get her wings free to show him.

Nesta put her hands on her shoulders. "We know, darling, but the cold can hurt you."

She pouted, jutting out her lower lip.

"Let's go." Azriel stepped forward, lifting first Titus, then Aralyn. "No squirming," he said to her and she froze, memorized by the shadows swirling around him.

They stepped out into the street and Cassian gathered Nesta into his arms. Beside them, Titus looked positively green. "I don't wanna go," he cried, reaching for his parents.

"I'll give you an extra cupcake," Cassian promised and launched into the sky.

Nesta clung to her mate, eyes on Azriel as he flapped after them. Aralyn's teeth were already chattering.

They made haste to the House of Wind, Cassian's lips chapped against the cold. He landed gracefully on the balcony, Azriel only a few steps behind him. Titus was shivering enough that Nesta took him and held him against her chest while as she walked inside.

Feyre and Rhysand were waiting inside, Amren scowling at Varian over the lip of her wine glass. Mor swept a giggling Aralyn away, showering her in kisses.

Feyre, however, took Titus, cooing at him and nearly biting Rhysand when he tried to take him.

Nesta knew how much Feyre and Rhysand loved the twins, but Titus held a special place after the loss of their own son. Nesta knew, that with his violet eye, he was quite possibly the boy from the Bone Carver's image.

Nesta shrugged out of her coat. "Where is Elain?"

"She's on her way," Feyre answered, tickling Titus's sides. His squeal might have been the loudest sound Nesta had heard him make.

Nesta nodded, watching as Amren swept Aralyn away from Mor. Mor squawked in protest.

Cassian, having wandered over, tapped Nesta's bum lightly. She hissed at him.

"They're fine," he reassured her, leaning in for a kiss.

"I would have thought," she said flatly, halting his lips, "that you were satisfied for the night."

"I'll show you just how satisfied I was." He nipped her ear.

"We're in public." But it seemed the entire court was occupied with their children.

He gave a playful growl when she tried to bat him away. "You won't comfort your sick mate?"

"My sick mate who couldn't manage to get two kids into the bath. Maybe you should have stayed home if you're that ill."

He huffed.

Aralyn, breaking free of Mor, collided with his legs and he went down with a dramatic "I have fallen!" She giggled, climbing over him and sitting on his chest as she sipped her apple juice from a wine glass.

Elain appeared not long after, hooked on Lucien's arm. Her daughters, Paris and Tigerlily, were at their sides. Paris was eight and Tigerlily seven but they both had more sass than the three Archeron sisters combined.

Paris hugged Aralyn first, the girls squealing, then went to tackled Cassian again. Tigerlily stayed clung to her father's side until Nesta opened her arms for a hug and she took full advantage.

Nesta smoothed down her unruly scarlet curls, pulling her back to see those auburn eyes. "Hello, Tiger."

Tigerlily blushed but smiled and damn Nesta if it wasn't beautiful.

They all sat down to eat, Paris teasing Titus with his food till he cried. The High Lord was the first to comfort him and Titus sat balanced on his knee for the rest of the meal. Nesta kicked Cassian under the table not once, but twice when his hand traveled dangerously up her thigh. Conversation buzzed, kids were tapped lightly on the nose, Elain even produced cookies for all of them.

The night stretched until Titus's eyelids drooped, Aralyn already collapsed with Tigerlily and Paris in Cassian's old bedroom. Nesta collected her son, taking him off to the room with the girls. She set him on the large bed, clicking her tongue at Paris who snored rather loudly. With care only a mother could have, she laid a heavy quilt over all of them, tucking it in at their toes.

When she turned back around, she saw Feyre watching her, eyes sad. "He would have been there too," she whispered as a tear trailed down her cheek.

Nesta led her from the room. "I know," she said. "I know."


	5. Chapter 5

Four Years Later:

Cassian sighed as Aralyn stomped her foot for the second time, refusing to eat with the others around the table. "Chicken is for dogs," she said in disgust to the meal Cassian had cooked-stuffed chicken valentino and parmesan asparagus. It was one of the favorites of the Inner Circle though Aralyn seemed to be adamant on starving herself.

Titus, seated between the High Lady and Lord, was a mirror of his mother's table manners-quiet, precise. His short black hair was brushed and combed as he mirrored the High Lord-setting down his fork slowly and staring at Aralyn.

Sometimes, Cassian thought that Titus was more Feyre and Rhysand's child than his own. But at the end of the day, when Titus was frightened of the shadows in his room, he ran to Cassian, not Rhys.

Though, Cassian thought as he squared off with his daughter, Aralyn was most definitely his. She was more stubborn than her mother with more energy than a puppy. But while Aralyn would follow him into the camps, joining their ranks and leveling battlefields, Titus, likely, would not. The only time he truly showed his fangs was when he argued with his sister.

"Aralyn," Nesta said harshly, standing over her daughter. "You will eat your food."

"No, I won't!" she shouted, stomping over to the balcony.

"So help me, Mother, if you fly off, Aralyn," Cassian said, crossing his arms. At the table, the Inner Circle was silent.

"You'll what?" Aralyn asked, hands on her hips.

Behind them, Amren let out an amused chuckle. "Taste your own medicine, boy."

Cassian considered flipping her off but that was a hand gesture he could do without Aralyn knowing.

"Fine," Nesta snapped. "No dinner. And no desert for a fortnight."

"But-"

"You can wait until we're all done in the other room."

Aralyn gaped, not expecting this turn of events. "That's not fair!"

"We decide what's fair." Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at this little terror. He pointed to the doorway. "Go."

Her lower lip wobbled. "Daddy-"

He slowly raised a brow.

"I'll eat," she said sadly, sulking back over to the table. Cassian sat beside her, making sure she cut the meat into small enough pieces. Nesta took her seat beside him, leaning against his shoulder only briefly before straightening.

There were few people who could stand their own against Cassian and Nesta and he had a feeling that his children would be two of them.

Rhysand was smirking as if he knew it too.

"Any news from the camps?" Cassian asked instead of hearing whatever comment his brother was about to deliver.

"We've gotten the camps surrounding Devlon's to stop wing-clipping too, but we still have a long way to go."

Cassian sometimes wanted to burn down all of those camps. "I'll give them my thanks."

"We're also going to the Court of Nightmares next week. Do you want to give it another try?"

Months ago, when they'd first gone to the Court of Nightmares, Aralyn had tried to sit on Feyre's throne with her, not at all phased by the darkness around her. Titus, however, had started crying when he saw the grave and serious looks on his parents and family's faces, thinking he'd done something wrong. Cassian had been forced to break his mask to promise that Titus wasn't in trouble, but the boy had still stayed behind his mother's skirts for the rest of the evening.

All in all, it hadn't gone over well.

But Kier had been horrified and it was the funniest thing Cassian had seen.

Cassian exchanged a glance with his mate before looking to Titus, who reached for his apple juice as Rhys reached for his wine. "I don't think so. Not till they're older."

Feyre nodded her agreement, staring at Titus too.

"I wanna go!" Aralyn said around a mouthful of chicken.

Nesta shook her head. "No, darling. Finish your food."

Aralyn's face twisted but she continued to devour her plate.

The rest of the dinner continued with small conversation until Cassian noticed his daughter's frequent yawning.

Some days, when the twins were too tired, they stayed in the House of Wind. But Cassian longed for his bed and for his mate, for waking up to the song of birds and whisper of his children's laughter, caught in the arms of his mate. She never smiled at these dinners, a remnant of the past that wouldn't go away no matter how much Aralyn and Titus tried to get her too.

On the balcony, Cassian buttoned up Titus's coat, warning him that the air would be cold on his wings. Aralyn was already balanced on the rail, doing cartwheels she had learned from Azriel.

Cassian set Titus upon the rail, giving him a light push. He wheeled his arms. Taking off had always been the hardest part for him but Cassian knew it was only fear, not inexperience. Titus was an amazing flyer, but he often over thought himself.

"Do you want a boost?" he asked his son. Titus nodded mutely. Taking his hips, Cassian threw his son's small body into the air. Beside him, Nesta had done the same with Aralyn, who wavered slightly in the air but caught the draft Titus was on and soared.

Cassian scooped up Nesta, giving her a kiss on the cheek and shot into the night sky.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Cassian indeed woke the next morning to bird song and the music of the twins' laughter, but he was not wrapped up in his mate. He patted the bed around him, searching blindly for her. When he bothered to lever his eyes open, he found himself in an empty room, the clock on the wall reading ten. It was no surprise that he overslept, given how much Nesta wore him out last night, but usually he was up before her.

Confused, he sat up, rubbing at his face as the sheets slid down his bare chest in the echo of a caress.

There were footsteps, a hush, and the door creaked open. Nesta poked her head in, Titus and Aralyn fighting for the space beneath her. Cassian raised his brows.

She opened the door wider to reveal a small, oddly shaped cake in her hands, smattered in pink frosting.

"Happy birthday!" Aralyn and Titus cried, leaping onto the bed.

"Birthday? Who's birthday?" Cassian asked as they climbed onto him to embrace him.

"Yours!" Titus said.

"Mine?" Cassian answered in mock shock. "Really?" He was glad for the sheet to cover his naked lower half and carefully angled it in place as the twins fought for space on his lap.

"Why don't you get Daddy his presents?" Nesta suggested and they raced out of the room, still bickering about who would hold what.

"You remembered," Cassian said.

Nesta gave the smile that was reserved for him only. "Of course I did. We baked you a cake."

"That's a cake?"

"Shut up." She set it on the nightstand for him. "We tried to make the frosting red, but it didn't work. Its red velvet though. Your favorite."

He looked at the blue scribbled on the top that somehow resembled "happy birthday." "Who did the writing? Aralyn?"

Nesta gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "I did that, asshole."

"Thank you. I haven't had a birthday cake in centuries."

"What does the Inner Circle do?"

"Forget. I'm immortal, nobody really counts birthdays."

She sat down beside him, trailing her fingers down his wrists to intwine them with his. "Happy birthday."

Cassian smiled as he heard Titus and Aralyn thundering up the stairs. Leaning in, he kissed his wife and said against her cheek, "I love you so much."


	6. Chapter 6

Ten Years Later:

Titus sighed as Aralyn gave a positively wicked grin to her reflection, examining her cosmetics for mistakes no one but her would notice.

It was going to be a long day.

"Ara," Titus whined, "your makeup is fine. We need to go."

"I know, I know." She turned to face him. "But how do I look?"

He honestly didn't think she looked any different than normal. "Does it matter?"

"The Winter Court has a prince and I fully plan on seducing him in every way possible." Her wings fluttered restlessly behind her, sunlight teasing at the veins.

"That's disgusting."

"I'm digging the icy heart that only a princess could thaw, fantasy story." She put her hands on her hips, staring at him. "You're wearing that?"

He looked down at himself. "What's wrong with my leathers?"

"We are going to a foreign court, you could at least bother to look nice. All of the High Lords are going to be there." She went into the hall, presumably to his room to dig through his closet.

He followed after her with a sigh, peeking down stairs to see his parents talking quietly. They always seemed to be talking quietly nowadays.

"Titus!" Aralyn yelled, drawing his attention.

He slunk into his room, finding her holding up his only fitting suit. "Put this on."

"Then get out."

She laid the clothes on his bed and left in a flourish of blue skirts. Titus indeed dressed and was fixing the buttons of the jacket when his mother came in.

Her grey blue eyes were hard as usual, and her fine fingers cold as they refolded his collar. "I assume you already know the other Courts will be present."

"Yes." He held his chin higher as she tied his bowtie. Every part of his outfit was to represent the Night Court so the jacket and pants were black, his shirt and bow midnight blue.

"I want you to stay with your sister and Tiger and Paris. Do not let any of them out of your sight. We'll be there for a week because there's no telling how long the negotiations will go and you'll share a room with them."

He nodded, gulping when she pulled her hands from his throat. "Do not speak to the other High Lords or their heirs. You are young, they will try to manipulate you. Don't worry, your father is having the same talk with Aralyn right now."

Titus nodded again.

"You are representing the Night Court. You and Aralyn, though you're not the high lord's children, are heirs of the Night Court." She hooked a finger under his chin, lifting it. "Act like it."

He took a deep breath, making himself nod again. Unrest had stirred recently between some of the human colonies and the fae of the Spring and Summer courts. Titus could only assume that was what this whole thing was for.

Masks, Rhysand had taught him, were a dangerous thing. They could be wielded as weapons but one must be careful not to forget their own reflection.

Nesta patted his stomach, losing her serious facade. "You're always so skinny yet you eat like a your father. How is that?"

He gave a smile at the familiar nag. "Magic, Ma."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Titus soared along the delicious current to the House of Wind, his wings prickling at each small change in the air. When he landed, he found his uncle Azriel had been behind him the entire time without his noticing.

"That will never not be unnerving," Titus said to him.

Azriel winked and strode inside.

As Titus joined them, he saw that Feyre and Rhysand were already waiting.

"Oh, Titus," Mor said, coming into the room with a glass of wine. "You look so handsome."

"Drinking already, Mor?" Cassian asked, breezing through the doors with Nesta and Aralyn on his heels. "It's not even noon yet."

Mor stuck her tongue out at him.

"Titus, Aralyn," Rhysand called. Amren, Titus now saw, was with the High Lord and Lady, just too short to be in view.

Aralyn beat him over, and was standing attentively before Titus could move. He joined her, albeit taking his time.

For on the small table between his aunt and uncle, there were too crowns.

Aralyn clasped her hands in thanks when Feyre placed the one twin to her own on her cap of black hair. Though Titus hesitated at the sight of the one that mirrored Rhysand's.

"Do we have to wear these?" His voice was higher than he anticipated and he quickly cleared it.

"Feyre was wearing one before she and Rhys were even mated," Amren said. "It is just a piece of metal, boy, put it on your head."

Titus took the crown from Rhys, thinking better of arguing further with Amren scrutinizing him, and placed it on his head.

It didn't quite balance right and tipped in a way that would look good on a book character, not an overly skinny High Fae. He frowned, and Rhysand centered it upon his silent request.

But the High Lord kept his hands on Titus's shoulders, some unreadable expression on his face.

Then his father was there, patting Titus on the back. Rhys's hands dropped.

His father and uncle stared at each other for a long moment in some internal conversation.

"Let's get going," Feyre said, breaking the tension.

First, Feyre and Rhys winnowed out. Then Nesta and Cassian. Then Mor and Az.

Aralyn raised a groomed brow at Amren. "Aren't you going?"

"Someone has to watch over Velaris."

"Oh," Aralyn and Titus said at the same time.

The twins stared at each other for a long moment to see which one would follow after their parents. It was a game they'd played for years without name or reason.

Per usual, it was Aralyn who broke first, vanishing into shadow.

Titus smiled weakly at Amren, a pathetic attempt to mimic the grins he's seen on his father, and too, like the light after the sun falls, disappeared completely.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Titus was briefly glad that he had vanished his wings before he'd winnowed because-holy Mother and all of her children-it was cold.

He thought his breath might clump together into ice as he walked up the stairs to the Winter Court palace, trailing his high lord and lady, Aralyn beside him.

Thankfully, the palace was warm inside but Titus still had to hold the last of his shivers in with clenched teeth and fist.

He saw Viviane first-High Lady of the Winter Court and one of Mor's closest friends. She swept forward in a flourish of skirts, her belly swollen and another small child propped on her hip.

Titus thought that he should keep his sister far away from the little prince who couldn't have been much over the age of two before he saw the two men behind Viviane.

The first he recognized as the High Lord, Kallias. It was the second that caught his attention.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered fae, his ciy blond hair swept neatly from equally icy blue eyes. He swept them over the court, landing on Aralyn first, and lingering.

Titus might have snarled had he been a different male, but as the prince's eyes shifted to him, he tried not to tremble.

Mor squealed, taking the child from Viviane and swinging him through the air. He giggled gleefully, kicking his feet.

"That's King," Viviane said, then waved to her other son, "and this is Danas."

"And who is this?" Mor put down King to place her hands on her friends stomach.

"Rae or Maxon."

"I see you've been busy."

Viviane giggled. "You know Kallias, a bit… relentless."

"Viv," Kallias said through his teeth, but there was warmth in his eyes.

Feyre embraced Viviane too as Rhysand clasped Kallias's hand. "May I introduce you to Nesta and Cassian's children," Rhys said, "and Heirs of the Night Court. Titus and Aralyn."

On cue, they both bowed in greeting.

"The other Courts are waiting," Kallias said, cocking his head.

As they followed, Titus took note of the palace around them. The walls were off white, accented in gold and blue. The domed ceilings had great swirls that made it look like a snowflake. Titus had to admit it was all beautiful, in a cold sort of way.

The other Courts were assembled in a large room around a circular fireplace, the night high above them. Titus saw Tiger first, sitting beside her grandfather. The rest of the Day Court was there too but Tigerlily lit up brighter than the sun when she saw him.

There was another Heir for Summer, a boy with Tarquain's eyes and Varian's height. He had an easy grace that Titus had never been able to possess, an arrogance that could rival Rhysand's. Dawn Court had a girl though, a cousin maybe who sat between the High Lord and his general lover.

They joined the group beside the Day Court, Paris and Aralyn already whispering.

And so the schemes began.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a ball held that night, in honor of the next generation of the Winter Court. Titus dressed in a mimic of Rhysand and Aralyn Feyre. Aralyn hooked onto his arm as they were announced, walking onto the floor. His sister nudged him to the pack of noble ladies that had been batting their eyelashes at him all night. He shook his head, finding a place against the wall and snatching a glass of champagne from a servant. It was his father that found him first.

"You should be out there," he said, "plenty of girls would love to dance with you."

Titus shook his head, staring down at the floor. "I'll pass."

Cassian was silent for a moment, then, tentatively said, "There are also a few males who want to dance."

Titus's heart hammered. "I said I'll pass."

"Suit yourself." Cassian shrugged. "If they were eying me like they are you I'd drop my trousers right there."

Titus blinked, then gaped. "How-how could you say something so vulgar."

"I'm trying to get a smile out of you, idiot. You always seem so down nowadays." He leaned against the wall beside his son, taking the glass from his hands and sipping. "It makes your mother feel bad. Me too."

"I'm sorry." Titus swallowed hard. He looked up, but his father wasn't looking at him.

Danas, Heir to the Winter Court, approached them, bowing formally. Cassian pushed off the wall, striding to where he saw his mate in the crowd. Titus scowled in his direction for leaving him.

"I don't think I've made acquaintance," said Danas. "I was just speaking with your sister. She's very bright."

Titus nodded, watching Aralyn dance with one of the Autumn Court bunch.

"Though, bright things cast shadows. I'm sure you are used to hers."

Titus snapped his gaze to the prince. "Is there something you want?"

Danas smiled. "I was just wondering where your claws are."

"Leave me alone." He felt like a child, being bullied by Aralyn again. "Don't you have my sister to oggle? She's the one that wants it."

As if on cue, his sister sidled up beside the ice prince, gripping his arm. Her short black hair was crowned in a chain of lilies and roses, probably made by Paris. She only glanced once at her brother before whispering into Danas's ear, "Dance with me."

He turned into her arms and then gracefully onto the dance floor. A pool of unease settled in Titus's stomach.

It didn't dry up for the rest of the night.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Tigerlily, having finished a dance with her father, found Titus hours later, sitting outside. She wickedly snatched the mini sandwich from his fingers and popped it into her mouth. "What're you doing out here?" she asked around a mouthful of bread and beef.

"It's very loud in there."

She sat on the stone bench next to him. "It's cold out here, though."

Titus leaned back, taking a deep breath. "I kind of like the cold. How's Aralyn?"

"She's been hooked to the Winter Court's Heir for most of the night."

"And Paris?"

"Flirting with the Dawn Court Heir even though she has a lover back home."

He snorted. "Sounds like her."

Tiger watched him for a moment, then said, "You should come with us later, we're going ice skating."

"I'll think about it." Which was basically a no from him.

She pouted. "You have to go, it'll be lonely."

"Flirt with Danas, maybe you'll get him away from Aralyn."

She made a face. "It's been rumored that he has a preference for males."

TItus knew what she was implying. "He can shove his preferences up his ass."

"I'm sure that's exactly what he does."

He mimicked her earlier face. "You should tell Aralyn that. She seems dead set on thawing his frozen heart, like a fairytale."

"Not all fairytales have good endings."

He chuckled.

Tigerlily looked over her shoulder, finding Paris and Aralyn strolling out to them, arms hooked around each other. "Come on," Paris said, "we're going skating."

"Told you." Tiger smirked.

Titus frowned. "I'll stay here, thank you."

"Nu-uh. I promised Dad I'd keep you with me. Let's go." Aralyn grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet.

He fought her. "Aralyn, that's not fair. We always do what you want to."

"Please, Titus," she begged, looking innocently at him.

"No. I don't want to." He yanked his arm out of her grip. "You three can go. I won't tell."

"Titus."

"Ara."

"It'll be fun. I won't make you stay for more than an hour. Just do this for me."

His hands shook, denial dying on his lips. He would do anything for her. And… if it made her happy, he'd go.

That was what family was for. Wasn't it?

"Fine."

Aralyn squealed. "Thank you, thank you." She latched again onto Paris, just as Danas strolled through the door hands in his pockets. "We should leave now, before the High Lords notice."

Titus gaped. He wasn't used to being spied on by anyone beyond Azriel.

The Dawn Court Heir followed after him, a beauty with her black hair plaited into braids and her eyes a striking gold. She blew Titus a kiss when she caught him staring. "I'm Mage."

He swallowed, blushing slightly as he looked away.

"Who else is coming?" Aralyn asked no one in particular.

"A few of the Winter Court nobility that can keep their mouths shut," said Danas, leading them along a path and away from the noise of the ballroom.

Titus shrank beside Tigerlily, whispering to her, "I don't feel very good about this."

She wrapped her fingers around his. "You're too paranoid, Titus."

He knew she was right. So he kept his mouth shut as they were led to a frozen over lake, little over a mile away. A few more Winter Court fae emerged from the woods, greeting Danas with grins and clasped hands. They found a box of ice skates buried in the snow, and Titus was briefly amazed that they fit.

He faced one problem though-he wasn't a very good skater. He had only learned because Mor used to take him and Aralyn and he specifically remembered falling flat on his face and breaking his nose.

So Titus stayed on the bench, staring down at the blue and black skates on his feet. It was precisely that reason that he didn't see Danas approach till he slid to a stop right in front of him.

When Titus looked up, Danas's face was inches from his own. "Wanna get out 'a here?"

Titus's eyes widened. "I think I'll stay here." With Tiger and Paris and Aralyn.

Danas smoothly skirted around the bench, as graceful as a dancer, as dangerous as a leopard. "I won't kill you, I promise."

There were some things that were worse than death. "No."

But Danas's icy eyes were alight with mischief and Titus didn't have time to summon his own power before he grabbed him by the shoulders and spirited them both away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: this chapter contains mature themes that may not be suitable for some readers. Scroll at your own risk**

Titus had never known true panic before. He was an excellent fighter, yes. He had his mother's wit and his father's talent for strategy, but he was a coward.

And that was exactly why he shrank from Danas the moment they were alone. They weren't far from the frozen lake-he could still see the flicker of a fire they had made-but were he to scream, someone would have to be listening closely to know it wasn't the wind.

Danas cocked his head to the side, studying him in the dim light of the frozen woods. "You are quiet-for an Heir."

Titus's skates were gone, magicked away to a pocket realm, and his boots had replaced them without his noticing. Shit. He'd hoped he could use the metal blades as a weapon. Cassian had taught him that-if you are in a situation you feel is dangerous, get something sharp or blunt or heavy. Get a weapon. Your magic is extraordinary, yes, but so is Feyre's and Tiger's and Lucien's. Magic is not special, and though neither is a brick, you won't be expecting a brick.

Another weapon, Nesta had cut in, was the mind. Titus had a sharp tongue and even sharper brain if he bothered to use it. There was nothing more dangerous than someone who was not afraid-or at least looked like it.

And that was why Titus wrapped his fingers around a large stick laying half buried in snow as he sank down, to appear afraid and meek and exactly the little Heir the Court of Nightmares thought he was. Let Danas believe that he was the stronger one.

Danas knelt in front of him, tapping his long fingers against his chin. "My parents warned me about you and your sister. Snakes, they said."

"Don't-don't hurt me," Titus pleaded.

"You know what else they said? That no High Heir is as weak as you act. It's intriguing."

Titus didn't know what to do, what to say. So he just trembled.

Danas traced the line of Titus's jaw and it was such a surprising gesture that Titus jumped, his stick darting forward to jab Danas in the side.

It wasn't hard but the prince flinched backwards, gazing with wide eyes at Titus. "I suppose I deserved that."

"What do you want from me?" Titus hissed with more venom than he meant.

Danas smiled. "I want to be your friend."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" He licked his lips. "You know, an alliance between the Night and Winter Courts would be powerful."

Titus narrowed his eyes. "There already is an alliance."

"A marriage alliance."

"Aralyn would never marry you."

"Who said I wanted Aralyn?"

Oh. Oh. So the rumors were true. "That's also ridiculous-you've barely met me."

Danas leaned closer, gaze flashing between Titus's mouth and his eyes. "You're a handsome as they say and much smarter. Do I have a reason not to want you?"

Titus could state a million reasons, but then he'd be showing Danas another thing-his weaknesses.

"Our families were already thinking," Danas said, trailing his fingers up the veins in Titus's wrist, "of doing a sort of exchange program between our Courts to unify them, with you and Aralyn as the figureheads."

Titus knew that. He'd listened outside of the meeting rooms, hidden even from the High Lord and Lady, as Azriel had trained him. He just hadn't anticipated that Danas knew too.

"So, prince." Danas leaned even closer, his breath rushing over Titus's lips. "What say you?"

"I don't want to marry you," Titus blurted. Danas pulled back, a single white brow raised. Titus went on, "Like I said, I barely know you. But I'm willing to try a… a…." He couldn't finish.

"A relationship?" Danas purred.

Titus bit his lip as he nodded. Danas, reaching up, tugged it from between his teeth. "Excellent. Let's start now."

Danas leaned forward again, only this time he didn't stop as he pressed his lips to Titus's. Titus gasped, frozen as the woods around them. Danas took full advantage of that gasp, his tongue diving into Titus's mouth.

Titus had never kissed a boy before but he had no idea why not. He had never imagined it would feel this good, especially as Danas pivoted them so Titus was on the ground, stretched out below him. Titus's wings appeared with a flare, a defense mechanism against this new threat.

Danas pulled away to look at them, arching his brow. "I didn't know you had wings."

Titus blushed, and blushed even deeper as Danas stroked a long finger along the bone ridge of one. Titus arched, a moan escaping him.

Danas pressed a kiss to his neck before pulling back again. Titus gaped at the man above him. Danas grinned.

And maybe it was just his pure idiocracy that made him, but Titus let Danas take him, right there in the snow. Said yes when Danas asked his permission. And the thing that made Titus most afraid wasn't the razor sharp intelligence of the prince, taking full advantage of the situation.

It was that Titus liked it, and that Titus didn't regret it when he should have.

It was that, despite that snow and ice around them, it was thanks to Danas that Titus didn't feel cold at all.


	9. Chapter 9

Night settled fully into the sky as Titus made his way back to the palace after insisting to Danas that he should go back alone. He was walking stiffly, sore in places he hadn't known one could be sore. The sex had been good, though he had nothing to compare it to. Still, the memory of running his hands down the prince's back, though his hair, the sounds of his heated groans and the taste of his skin….

Titus had to lean his brow against the wall for a moment, pulling his wings around him. It was a wonder his clothes were intact from the ferocity in which Danas had pulled them off.

His blush had yet to fade from his cheeks but he could easily blame that on the cold. He only hoped he wouldn't run into anyone he knew on his way to Aralyn and their cousins' adjoined rooms.

His hope ran out, however, when he found his parents pacing outside of said rooms. Upon the scrape of his boots, they both snapped their gaze to him.

His mother crossed her arms over her chest, glaring hard, but his father swept his eyes over him, looking for signs of harm. Titus was grateful for the faint breeze coming through the windows of the halls, blowing his, and undoubtedly Danas's, scent away.

"Where the hell have you been?" Nesta snapped, eyes like living flame.

Titus flinched. He hadn't thought up a good excuse yet, so he settled with the first thing that came to mind. "I left for food."

"There was food there." His father stepped forward.

Titus remembered then that there was indeed food at the ball and they weren't even supposed to leave that in the first place. "I wasn't in the mood for sweets so I went to the kitchen and one of the cooks made me some of that famous cod. We got caught up in conversation. I'm sorry."

He wondered, briefly, if his parents would believe his bullshit.

His father started, "You-"

"Please," Titus interrupted, "I'm tired, I didn't sleep well last night. Can we continue this talk in the morning?"

His parents exchanged a glance, Nesta furious, Cassian worried. "We told you," his mother said quietly, "not to leave them for your own safety. We don't joke about these things, Titus."

He stepped forward, taking his mother's fine-boned hands. "I know, Mom. I really am sorry but it's really late." He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them. If he had to convince either of his parents of his lie, she would be the most difficult. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. I promise."

She narrowed her eyes on him, taking her hands away. "You're in for a beating once I find out what you did. I expected this from Aralyn, not you."

He winced as he edged around Cassian to the door, apologizing again. He managed to slip inside but saw his father's nostrils flare, then his eyes widen.

Titus closed the door with a click, darting into the room.

"Titus!" Cassian yelled.

Titus ran for the bathing room, turning the faucet in the bath on to drown any knocking. They would leave it till morning hopefully.

Titus sighed, running his hands through his hair. He was so fucked. In multiple ways he realized. He stripped of his clothes, the movements aching and slow. He found faint bruises on his hips and a glaring love bite just below where his collar had ended. There was another on the juncture where his shoulder met his neck.

He winced as he gently prodded them.

When the bath was full and steam misted the room, he sank into the delicious heat, easing his sore muscles. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

And heard the door click open.

He didn't have the energy to move as Tigerlily swept in, frowning at him and the bubbly bath. "You disappeared."

He ducked lower so as to hide the bruise on his neck. "I'm sorry, Danas stole me away."

She raised a fiery red brow. "Oh? For gossip, I hope."

He blushed. If there was anyone in the world he could tell about this, it was Tiger. "I mean, there was some of that but… ."

And so it all came pouring out because he wasn't good at keeping secrets. He was positively red by the time he finished, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to be in so much trouble."

"Oh yes, you will be flayed alive when they find out." Tiger sat on the rim of the tub.

"Find out about what?" Aralyn asked as she came into the room. Titus was briefly thankful for the bubbles to cover his nakedness with not one but two extra people in the room.

"Nothing," he mumbled, sinking further into the tub.

"About you sleeping with the Winter Court Heir?" she asked, a groomed brow raised.

He started. "How did you know?"

"A lucky guess." His twin shrugged. "He was eying you all evening and you're gullible enough."

"I am _not_ gullible." But he stared into the water, guilt crowding the edges of his mind. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," said Tiger, shooting a glance at Aralyn. "It just might not have been the smartest idea."

He pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "He's just… . He got me alone and he's convincing and handsome-"

"And manipulative," Tiger finished. "Don't you think it's a little odd?"

"I do." Aralyn looked at him with a critical eye. "He pulled you into a forest alone where no one else knew where you went and seduced you. Thoroughly, from the hickeys."

Titus rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous-you didn't even notice I was gone. You noticed _he_ was."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "So? Maybe I want a prince lusting after me."

Tiger cringed. "Let's not go there."

"Can you guys, um, go? I'm trying to bathe." Titus swished the water a bit for emphasis.

Tiger nodded, slipping out the way she came. But Aralyn lingered. "Was it good?"

Titus's eyes widened. "What?"

"Was he any good? The prince."

He blushed so madly he thought the blood might pour out of his ears. "That's none of your business."

She pushed off the wall, walking to the edge of the tub to stare down at him. He was again thankful for the everlasting bubbles. "Maybe he likes women too and I'll get a go. He could have a thing for heterochromia."

He clenched his jaw hard. "I don't think so."

"Oh? Want to keep him all to yourself."

He winced. "Ara-"

"You know what this means, right?"

"What?" He held in his shiver at the strange light in her gaze.

She leaned forward, a wicked grin lighting her face. "I have blackmail."

He wasn't sure if she was joking.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The next day Titus woke up to his door swinging open. "Titus!" Paris shouted. "Wake up, it's nearly noon!"

Paris was always particularly loud, most especially when she had the task of waking someone up.

Titus groaned, rolling onto his face. "Let me sleep."

"We have to be at lunch in two hours," she said, yanking the blankets off of him.

The cold took hold with a merciless hand.

"Aunt Nesta already got Tiger and Ara and told me to wake you up." She shook his shoulders until he bothered to lift his face from the pillow.

The oldest of them and most beautiful, Paris was a sight to be seen, though she and Tigerlily could have been twins. Her red hair fell nearly down to her tailbone, eyes like citrus fruits. She had a smatter of freckles over her cheeks and shoulders, her face nearly mirror to her mother's. She, unlike Tiger and very like Aralyn, had a taste for fashion. Now she wore a brilliant champagne gown, meant to turn every eye in the kingdom-even if she had already sold her heart to a certain Illyrian princess. It fell to her knees, rather than her ankles, much to her parents horror.

"I'm up, I'm up," Titus groused as he pushed himself slowly out of bed.

"Get dressed, I want to see the bears today."

What did one even wear to explore a foreign kingdom? Though the last person he'd as was Paris. "Fine, but-"

There was a quiet, polite knock at the door.

Paris whirled and, in a flourish of skirts, went to answer it. The servant murmured a few things to her, handing her a note. She read it slowly, then nodded. "Very well. Titus, she will help you dress. Mom told me Ara's trying to gode Tiger into trouble again."

He nodded reluctantly. There were little things he hated more than being helped dress, but this was Court and he could put up with it.

The servant stepped inside as Paris left, handing Titus a completely different letter. He only got to read " _Dearest Prince of the Night Court, I have come to-"_ before the door swung open again, this time without knock of preamble.

Danas came into the room with a smirk.

Titus's eyes widened. "W-what?"

The servant bowed to Danas then too left.

Titus backed up till the back of his knees hit the bed. He only wore a pair of undershorts, having been too tired last night to properly dress for bed. "What are you doing here?"

Danas approached without hesitation, leaning forward for a single kiss. "I wanted to see you." He brushed a thumb across love bite on his neck. "Did you sleep well?"

Titus mutely nodded, making to step back again but he was already against the bed. Danas didn't help as he lightly pushed his shoulders, making him fall to sit on the mattress. Titus started.

Danas's hands settled on either side of him, his face centimeters away. "I was wondering if you wanted another go before getting ready."

"Another go?" Titus could see the hundreds of shades of blue in his eyes.

"Sex," Danas said blatantly.

"Oh." Titus looked down. Given how sore he was yesterday, he didn't think it was a good idea. But if Danas wanted… . "I guess we can, I don't mind."

Danas didn't immediately move though. "You don't have to say yes to me just because I ask. Do you want to?"

Titus bit his lip and saw Danas's gaze flash to it. "I was sore last night-" Danas grinned. "-and we're busy today so I'd rather not."

Danas nodded, his grin falling into seriousness. He again looked to his love bites. "Those should stay for a few more days because there was magic behind them too, but the bruises… ." His hand fell to the waist of Titus's shorts, tugging them down slightly.

Titus grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "They've faded."

"I'm sorry about those. I didn't mean for that." He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck.

Titus looked to the buckle of Danas's belt, level with his upper chest. "If you want me to, though, I can-"

"No," Danas said. "No. Let's get you dressed." He went to his trunks, digging through them.

Titus got up on shaking legs, trying to steady himself as he walked over.

Danas pulled out a midnight blue bowtie, holding it up. "I want you to wear this later. And nothing else."

Titus yanked it out of his hand, ignoring that comment. "I can dress myself."

But Danas insisted, picking out everything blue in his portable wardrobe. He also wouldn't let Titus change his undershorts himself and so Danas did it, pressing torturous kisses to his bare hips, his inner thighs.

Titus put his hands on his shoulders when his mouth lingered a few inches below his navel, tongue brushing his skin. "Danas," he whispered.

Danas pulled back, pulling his new undershorts up to the tops of his thighs. Titus's face heated and he yanked them the rest of the way, lunging for his pants to hide what the prince was doing to him.

But Danas was still kneeling, frozen in place as he stared at the floor.

Titus cursed, hopping and zipping his fly. "Is something wrong?"

"My name," Danas whispered. "You said my name."

"And? It's just a name."

Danas shook his head, climbing to his feet. "Sorry, I'm just so used to being called 'Your Highness' or equally as stupid things."

Titus chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head. Danas buttoned up his tunic and combed his hand affectionately through his hair.

"Oils," Titus blurted, moving to the bathing chamber. "I'm going to cover your scent with oils."

"Why would you want to cover my scent?" Danas raised a brow, leaning against the door frame.

Titus only pursed his lips and his hands shook as he dug through the cabinets.

He pulled out an almond scent he often wore, spraying it on his wrists. He looked at the mirror, cursing when he saw the collor of his tunic didn't cover his bruise.

He moved back into the room only to slam into a broad chest. When he looked up though, it wasn't Danas, who hid inside the closet.

Cassian stared down at Titus. "You're late."

"You didn't-I didn't hear you come in." He backed up a step, putting his hand on his neck as if he were rubbing it in modesty. "I'm sorry, I'll be out in a moment, if you'll excuse me."

"What were you really doing last night?" Cassian asked instead, throwing an arm out to stop his path to the bedroom.

"Dad," Titus said slowly, "I told you, I was in the kitchens."

"None of the kitchen staff say that."

His heart pounded. "You went to the kitchens?"

Cassian's lips twitched up. "No."

Titus would have sighed had his father not had that smirk he did before he cut warriors down.

His father leaned forward conspiratorily. "If you tell me, I might be able to save you some trouble with your mother."

Titus felt like his heart was playing hopscotch in his chest as he said, "Neither of you can punish me if you don't have any proof of what I did."

"I see you're thinking like a politician now. Very well. Then, Titus, do tell me why you and your room smell like the Ice Prince."

Before he could stop his father, he yanked his hand from his neck and poked the love bite. "And _what_ is _that?"_


	10. Chapter 10

**I would like to personally thank CrystalShadowStar for all of your reviews and support. It means so much to me as a young author working on my first book and all the wonderful things you've said really help me to feel that I'm not completely failing in my writing, even if this isn't my main project. Thank you so much. 3**

"Explain yourselves," Nesta ordered, crossing her arms. Titus sat in a chair, shirtless to show the other love bite. There was also another one he hadn't noticed on the side of his ribs. Beside him sat Danas, having come out of hiding the moment Cassian started yelling. So they'd both been dragged by their ears into a meeting full of the Courts. All had left but the High Lords and Ladies of Night and Winter, Titus's parents, Lucien, Elain, Mor, and Azriel.

Titus was blushing so madly he thought his head might explode but Danas only stared hard at the floor.

"Damianas," Viviane said through her clenched teeth. Titus whipped his head over to him. He'd never known his full name.

"What the hell went through your head when you decided to fuck the Night Court Heir?" Kallias demanded. "You're supposed to be smart, Danas. You're inheriting a kingdom."

"And you," Nesta snapped, vicious as a whip, "I expected better of you."

Titus hung his head, hands limp in his lap. His blush slowly drained till his face was positively bloodless. He was about to apologize, but Danas spoke up.

"Don't act like none of you had affairs with other Courts. Lady Autumn herself sired the Day Court's child while she was married to Beron."

"You're eighteen, Danas!" Kallias shouted. "Titus is seventeen!"

Danas's icy eyes slid to Feyre. "She was nineteen."

Rhysand growled, low and vicious, but Danas wasn't backing down. "What makes this any different? If anything, it should be less of a deal than you all are making it." He looked Titus over, smirked, and glanced back at the gathered royalty. "It was just a meaningless fuck, it's not like-"

His own mother slapped him across the face but the damage had already been done.

Titus stared hard at the stone floor, trying to keep his expression in check. Around him, everybody seemed to be yelling at Danas and he yelled back, equally impassioned. Equally vicious.

Titus closed his eyes, blocking it out. Blocking it all out.

He let the night cool him, let bursting starlight illuminate the back of his eyelids. It swept away the worst of the day, swept away Danas entirely. Until it was only Titus that existed in this darkness, a forever kind of solitude.

Someone said his name. He couldn't answer. There were hands on his shoulders, shaking him, but they were nothing compared to the hand of night that had taken him.

Pain exploded across his cheek, yanking him back to the here. The now.

Azriel stood before him, scarred hands on his shoulders, hazel eyes wide.

"We're leaving," Rhysand was saying to Viviane, an arm around his mate. Viviane was trying to apologize while Kallias shoved Danas from the room, growling something at him too low for Titus to hear.

"Get me Aralyn, tell her to pack her and her brother's things," Nesta ordered one of the guards, who bowed and raced off.

Azriel pulled Titus to his feet, a rock to keep him from swaying. Cassian nodded to him, a silent conversation passing between them. Mor approached too, taking hold of Titus's other arm. Before he could open his mouth to protest, they winnowed him out of the Winter Court.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Titus buried himself in his blankets, trying again and again to read nad failing again and again when tears clogged his vision. He'd given up in fear of them falling onto the precious pages.

He staying in his room for hours, marked only by the sunset now in his window. When his stomach screamed at him, he finally bothered to make his way down stairs.

Only his Aunt Mor was there, sipping from a glass of what was probably wine. "Evening, beautiful," she sang.

He scrubbed at his eyes, hoping he didn't look as miserable as he felt. "Where is everyone?" he croaked, going to the pantry.

Mor swirled her gold glass, looking at him over the rim. "At the House of Wind, having a meeting."

"Aralyn?"

"She's there too. You're dad left frosting for a cake he's planning in the icebox. I won't tell anyone if you eat some. Or most. Or all."

A hint of a smile touched his lips as he pulled out the tub and went in search of a spoon.

He sat beside his aunt, poking at the frosting. "So you're on babysitting duty."

"I'm on heart-break duty, and idiot duty-which is what you are. A heart-broken idiot."

He took a spoonful of frosting. "I'm not," he said as he shoved it into his mouth, letting the sugary goodness dissolve on his tongue.

"You just spent seven hours in your room crying and only came out to eat sugar. Believe me, I know what it's like." She tapped her long nails on her glass, giving him a half smile.

He ate another spoonful but left the spoon in his mouth as he asked, "They're talking about me, aren't they?"

She nodded, her full lips pulling into a frown. "Yes, but other things too. Don't worry, there have been problems like this before."

He stabbed at the tub of frosting. "I hate that I caused all this trouble."

"Then you've learned your lesson." She looked at him for a long moment, then put her hand over his, pausing his stabbing. "You can cry, Titus. I would too."

He nodded solemnly, leaned into her arms, and let what he hoped were the last of his tears flow.


	11. Chapter 11

Titus awoke to a hand over his mouth.

His eyes flew wide, fingers immediately searching for the knife he always kept under his pillow. He brought his knee between his attackers legs as his fingers closed around the hilt. A hand closed around his lower thigh and squeezed to the point of pain.

Titus bit the fingers over his mouth and though his attacker might have caught his knee, they didn't catch his knife.

He made to plunge the blade into the flesh of their side but it hit armor. Through the dark, he saw green eyes widen a momet before he grabbed the attacker's hand and twisted their wrist around the wrong way. The cry that came from their mouth was female, as was the body he saw fall away.

He snarled madly, fetching the sword his father stored under his bed. The girl knelt, bowed over her injured wrist. She wore light armor over her body, all but her head and hands. Her face, he saw as he lifted her chin with the end of his sword, was unrecognizable. Beautiful for a human, but average for a fae. Her hair was claret red, braided out of her pale face. But those eyes-he'd seen them before even if he couldn't recall where.

"Who are you?" Titus growled, lips curling into a snarl.

He watched her shoulders shake a moment before he realized she was crying. "I'm sorry," she blubbered. "You looked-you looked like the first nice person I've seen. I'm sorry."

He didn't dare lowered his blade, knowing this was the same mask he sometimes wore. But she must have been an excellent actor because he couldn't see through it.

"Stop crying," he said through his teeth. "What are you doing here?"

She wiped away her tears with her good hand, trembling still. "I'm sorry. I was told to come here-to Prythain. And they told me about this town-"

"Who told you about this town?" Velaris was still supposed to be secret outside of Hybern, the Court of Nightmares, and a select few in the Day Court.

She rocked in place. "The queens-the-the golden queen. She left me a map."

His brows pinched. "They're supposed to be dead."

"I was only a year old. She left it for me."

He stared for a long moment, then finally said, "You are in a house full of some of the most dangerous people on the planet. You make one move against me or anyone else in this city and your life is forfeit. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He removed his sword and sheathed it at his side. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she repeated.

"Get up. Tell me your name."

"Camette," she said as she stood, swaying slightly.

Titus held out his sword again when she looked as if she might step towards him. "Take off your armor and any weapons."

She nodded, working the buckles slowly. Her fingernails were cracked and fumbling, as if she'd climbed the bricks to get through the window.

"How did you know to come to this house?" he asked as her chest plate gave way to a dirty undershirt.

She looked up. "What do you mean?"

She couldn't be that stupid-hopefully. "Are you a spy?" he asked, even if it was a stupid question.

"I-No."

But he saw the hesitation and narrowed his eyes. "Why, again, did you come here?"

She worked at the buckles on her forearms. "I was told that I had family here."

"In the Night Court?"

"N-no. In Prythian." She pulled a dagger from her waist, dropping it immediately to the floor when Titus stiffened. "Will you tell me your name?" she asked.

"No." He waved his blade to the door. "Go. We'll get some food."

She walked to the door stifly, as if hyper aware of the blade poised to strike at her back. They went down the stairs to the kitchen, where Titus made both of them sandwiches. She devoured hers madly, somehow managing to chew loudly. When she looked around for something else to eat, Titus mutely handed her the other half of his own sandwich.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do now. He couldn't wake his parents, they'd be more mad at him than they already were. Aralyn was too risky-she would either help him or summon the entire Inner Circle to stare down their noses at him.

"So you're from Hybern," Titus said as he sank into the chair across from her, watching her gulp down a glass of water. He set his sword on the counter out of reach and instead took a butcher's knife, setting it on the table between them, his fingers closed around the hilt.

Camette nodded, putting down the water with a click. "Thank you-for helping me."

He didn't answer, studying her. Finally, he asked, "Do you have magic I should know about?"

She frowned. "I suppose, though it's nothing grand." She reached for the vase of limp flowers and took them out, shaking away the dripping water. Spreading them over the table, she ran her delicately over them.

In an instant they brightened and strengthened, stems becoming thicker, colors more vibrant.

Titus's brows pinched. He hummed, "Well then."

She collected the flowers again, putting them back in the vase.

"Where do you plan to go?" Titus asked carefully.

She shrugged. "I was hoping you might help me. I have no idea about anything on this continent."

"I'm not really in the position to help you much." Not with him still in very much trouble and very much heartbroken.

"Not at all?" She looked at him innocently.

"Not without my par-"

"Titus Matthias Archeron." Nesta appeared at the top of the stairwell, arms crossed. "You seem to love getting yourself in trouble."


	12. Chapter 12

Aralyn was smirking at him like a wolf as he listened to his parents' shouting lectures. Titus knew she was the one who had first found him out and informed their parents likely in a very smug fashion. Nesta put Camette in the only room in the house without weapons-the guest bedroom. She'd practically thrown her in there, much to Titus's distress, but by then, his father was already yelling at him.

"I didn't raise you to be this stupid!" Nesta finally finished, panting slightly from her rant.

Titus wisely kept silent, knowing if he said anything she would explode again.

"I'm getting Feyre and Rhys," Cassian announced, sheathing a sword between his wings.

Titus swallowed hard as he watched his father march out the door.

"See if you can get any information on the girl," Nesta ordered Aralayn.

"Don't hurt her!" Titus blurted as his sister pushed off the wall.

Aralyn only snorted and continued down the hall, twirling her dagger.

Nesta stepped forward, bracing her hands on the counter in front of him. "We're sending you back to the Winter Court in three days."

Titus snapped his eyes to his mother. "What?"

"The exchange program was a good idea and it will not go to waste because of your idiocracy. I, for one, think it will be suitable punishment for what you've done."

He started shaking, everything he'd pushed down the passed few days coming rushing to the surface. "Mom-"

She reached out, brushing her hand across his cheek. "I know it's hard, my son, but this is for things beyond heartbreak and romance. We have been trying to unify Prythain since the war. This is the next step."

He looked away from his mother's eyes, brushing her hand away. "Shouldn't you be trying to keep me away from him?"

She sat back as she said, "I have a feeling I don't have to worry about you wanting to be near him at all."

"Will Aralyn be going?" He wasn't sure if he wanted his sister to come along or not.

"No-she's going to the Dawn Court. Tiger will be with you, though."

He breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Tiger's accompaniment was his mother's blessing, her small gift.

The door flew open and the winter breeze with it, sending chills down Titus's spine. His father, Rhysand, and Feyre stormed into the room.

"Where is she?" Rhysand demanded, sparing Titus only a glance.

Cassian went to the guest bedroom, returning with Camette and Aralyn in toe.

Feyre's eyes widened and Rhys's nostrils flared.

Camette was shaking with fear, her attention darting between Titus and the High Lord and Lady. "Please," she whispered, "tell me what I've done."

"No," Rhysand whispered, trembling slightly. "It's impossible."

A tear trickled down Camette's cheek as she at last met the High Lord's gaze. "I don't understand."

Feyre went to Rhysand, and though Titus had seen the compassion of the High Lord and Lady too many times to count, it still surprised him when Rhys nearly collapsed into Feyre's arms. His parents, though he knew they loved each other deeply, rarely were as public about it, even in front of their own children.

"Get her out of my sight," Rhysand snarled into his mate's neck, his wings struggling to manifest.

No one move, even Cassian and Nesta looked shocked.

"What is it?" Aralyn asked. "She's just looking for her brother and her father-"

"Tamlin," Feyre said very quietly, watching as Camette's face paled further, "is her father. And Amarantha her mother."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The brisk Winter wind cut at Titus's face as he landed, setting Camette on the cold stone floor. He wasn't sure how he'd convinced his parents to let him take her along, glamoured to mask the smell of her heritage. His aunt and uncle hadn't known what to do with her, staring her down in horror. Titus had felt enough pity to take her with him, even if dragging her through winnowing realms and flying from the border to the palace made his arms sore.

The High Lord and Lady of the Winter Court did not greet them, and neither, thankfully, did Danas. It was a servant who bowed at the waist, elegant and refined. "Welcome, Your Highness."

"Where are the High Lord and Lady?" he asked, snapping his fingers. His packs appeared on the floor beside him, bursting with clothes and weapons.

"The Lady is currently in labor. Prince Danas is watching over the young King."

That, Titus thought, was a good reason to miss his arrival. "Where will I be staying?"

"You're previous apartments, Your Highness." The servant bowed again, hefting Titus's bags. "Right this way."

When Titus looked at her, he found Camette gaping at the winter decor, green eyes wide in wonder. He tugged her sleeve lightly, signalling her to trail behind him.

"Give her my twin's rooms. I want my most trusted servant near to hand," Titus told the servant as he surveyed his room. It had been cleaned, thankfully, and didn't reek of Danas.

The servant bowed, showing Camette away. Titus shed his winter layers, signing as they fell to the floor one by one. He rustled his wings, hoping to get some blood pumping back into them. Going to his bags, he picked out his finest set of Illyrian leathers, donning them after checking the locked door. That was the main purpose of the exchange program-to bring other cultures into other Courts. He was to teach the warriors and possibly the royalty themselves Illyrian fighting and hunting style. Tiger would bring a cache of sacred texts with her, teaching them to decode and to craft their own codes. She would show them how to reimburse funding for the libraries that had been burnt down during Amarantha's reign, and how to keep the money flowing for them. Not even centuries old librarians could rival his cousin for intellect.

Aralyn and Paris were going to the Dawn Court to do the same thing-spread ideas. Winter would then send Danas and King to first the Night Court, then the Day, and the Dawn Court heirs would follow them. Three month periods. Three months for him to teach the Winter Court centuries of Illyrian and NIght Court history and style.

He only hoped he could face Danas someday, possibly even today. Could hurt him as he had hurt Titus.

Camette was in the doorway, poking her fingers together. She wore the Illyrian leathers that had once been Aralyn's before she'd grown into her woman's body. Camette, though, lacked such items were Aralyn flaunted them.

"You're supposed to look like my servant," Titus told her. "Not confused."

"I'm sorry." She stepped into the room, pursing her lips tightly. "We don't have anything so beautiful on the Continent."

He was about to tell her that she ought to see the Rainbow, but thought better of it.

"There are places far more beautiful all over Prythain." He wondered how surprised she would be when she saw her own Court. His family still hadn't told Tamlin yet, puzzling over how Camette had been concieved. And a brother? Did this brother have the same parents?

Titus didn't know much of Feyre and Rhysand's story, barely knew his own parents', but he got the jist-

Camette shouldn't exist.

Titus frowned at her, readjusting an ill fitting buckle around her waist. "I think-"

He was cut off by a squeal of laughter from outside the room. King ran by the open door, giggling madly. Danas, Titus was sure, would be walking after him.

Titus wasn't sure why he did this next thing. Maybe it was revenge, or greed. But it was pitiful.

Titus pulled Camette by the waist towards him, pressing his lips to hers. Revulsion and shame roiled through him, but Camette didn't move away, frozen in spot. To anyone looking on, it would look like a slow, intimate kiss. A promise of more later in the night.

Titus pulled back, gaze shooting to the door.

As he expected, Danas stood there, gaping while King tugged at his hand.

Titus blew him a kiss too and, with a sweep of his power, slammed the door in his face.


	13. Chapter 13

Aralyn strode into the pathetic training rink they had in the Dawn Court, pointing out all of the problems with it to a stumbling scribe that scrambled to write everything she said.

Paris, hopefully, would be arriving tomorrow. Until then… .

Aralyn faced the Dawn Court's greatest warriors-seven of them. They each puffed out their chests as she passed, much like the way she'd seen Tiger's house cats fluff their fur to appear bigger.

"My name is Aralyn Andromache Archeron. It's quite a mouthful so don't bite off more than you can chew with me. My mother is Nesta Archeron, the emissary and slayer of Hybern. My father if Cassian of the Night, General of the Night Court's forces and possibly the greatest Illyrian warrior to walk the planet." She stopped her pacing to look some of them dead in the eye, staring them down till they looked away. "You probably have heard many gruesome and wild stories about my family. I'll let you decide which ones to believe."

She put her hands on her hips. "I'm seventeen years old. I have taken down warriors dozens of times my age. Don't think you won't be next on my list."

Some of the warriors sniffed, some looked at her with surprise or respect.

Twisting her lips, she summoned her wings, letting them flare in the morning light. Someone gasped. "My father hails from a race of fae called Illyrians-the aerial cavalry of the Night Court. Traditions runs thick in our blood and war even thicker."

She clapped her hands together, giving a deadly grin. "Let's get started."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"My name is Titus Matthais Archeron," Titus announced to the gathered company. He had practiced this-rehearsed it over and over again to make it perfect. "You know me as the Heir to the Night Court, son of the famous General and Emissary. I have been taught from the cradle to defend myself and to use my magic to the best of its ability. You may have decades, centuries, under your belt, but I have Illyrian training, I have my father's training. And now I will teach it to you." He flipped an Illyrian blade in his hand, giving it hilt first to one of the warriors. "First, let's see what you can do."

The warrior squared off-a short, lithe girl. Titus didn't even draw his sword-he had her down in three maneuvers. The next man in two. One by one, the ten warriors fell to the mercy of his technique, some proving an actual challenge.

Titus was panting as he threw the last warrior to the ground, sweat breaking over his brow.

The warrior was wide-eyed as she stared up at Titus.

"Lesson one," he said, "never underestimate your opponent."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Titus watched Camette devour her lunch like a starved animal. Around him, the warriors ate too, talking and laughing amongst themselves. At some point Titus had stripped of his shirt as had many of the males. As Titus undid the wrappings around his knuckles, he caught one-the first he'd taken down-staring at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

The girl looked to her friends and came back with a grin. "Is it true that you tumbled the prince?"

Titus resisted the blush threatening his cheeks. "That's none of your business."

"Actually," said a voice behind him, "I tumbled him. He was on bottom."

Titus stiffened and a hand slapped his backside. He jumped, drawing his sword in a smooth motion. "Don't touch me," he snarled at Danas. Out of the corner of his eye, Camette was rising from her seat, reaching for her sword too-even if she didn't know how to use it.

Around him, warriors started smirking. No, this wasn't right. Part of Illyrian training was establishing respect. They couldn't respect him and laugh at him at the same time.

Danas wasn't smiling as he said, "I thought you liked my touch. You were moaning under it a week ago."

Titus bared his teeth as the warriors roared. "We all have to fake it sometimes."

The warriors continued to cackle.

A look akin to anger shown on Danas's face. "I'm happy for another roll, prince."

"I don't think it's healthy to put myself through that again."

"I had you begging-"

"For it to be over. To be fair, you didn't take long."

Gradually, the warriors stopped laughing.

Danas looked around slowly. "I see you took down some of my father's best. Do you think you can win against me?"

"They didn't mind when I took their brothers and sisters down. I don't think they'll be too fond of me putting their prince in the same place."

Camette wandered over, looking at the ice prince like he was the dirt on the bottom of her shoes.

Danas's lips curled but he said to Titus, "Don't tell me you're afraid?"

Titus considered. This wouldn't be a pretty fight, he knew, but it shouldn't be a long one. Yes, Danas had a High Heir's training with a sword, but Titus had Cassian's. His father-who could best any of the Inner Circle within a manner of minutes.

Titus said to the warriors as he stared down Danas, "You are dismissed for the day. I'll see you all at nine tomorrow."

The warriors exchanged another set of glances but picked up their things and headed for the door. Titus grabbed Camette's arm. "You have the rest of the day off. Buy yourself some clothes-Winter has the softest coats."

"I don't have any money," she whispered, a blush high on her cheeks.

"I have plenty-use mine."

"But-"

"Camette. Please." He slid his hand into hers, squeezing once.

She squeaked, darting off.

When she and the rest of the warriors we gone, Titus dared face Danas. He flipped his sword. "Let's get this over with."

"I didn't mean it," Danas blurted.

"I don't care," Titus said, and lunged at him.

Danas darted aside, unsheathing his sword, and fell right into Titus's next attack. The lunge was only a feign-Danas just barely caught Titus's sword for his side. They clashed, Danas barely defending Titus's attacks. Titus could have ended it at any moment, but he wanted to drag this out. A cut at Danas's side, a slice on his arm, across his cheek. Danas's eyes widened when he saw the sword swiping for his throat.

He jumped back just in time. "What are you trying to do-kill me?"

Titus didn't say anything, just hit his wrist with the broad of his sword, disarming him. He didn't let Danas retrieve it either, swiping his feet from beneath him.

Staring down at him, Titus put his foot on the center of his chest and pressed down slightly, his sword hanging at his side. Danas groaned, gripping his ankle.

Titus leaned, putting even more weight on him. "You are scum."

"Please," Danas begged. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Titus."

"You have no right to call me by my first name," Titus hissed.

Danas gasped, eyes blinking wide, and Titus realized he might have been putting too much pressure. He moved away, crossing his arms and giving Danas his back.

He heard Danas standing, stepping hesitant towards him. "Will you at least hear me out?"

Titus raised his chin, staring hard at the wall, and said nothing.

Danas, seeming to take this as an invitation, took another step forward. "That was a lie-that it was meaningless. It wasn't. I was panicking and I have a bad habit of digging myself a deeper grave once I'm already in. I-Titus-"

Titus released a low growl.

Danas sighed. "I'm sorry-okay? This whole thing between us is new and maybe I'm stupid for jumping head first into it and I know I could have handled everything better. I wish I could do it all over differently. Give me a second chance. Please."

Titus felt Danas's fingers trail over his arm. Danas whispered, "I promise I'll do better this time."

Titus knew that his mother-his father, his aunts, his uncles, his sister, his cousins-would want him to say no. But this wasn't about them.

"You barely know me," Titus said quietly.

Danas pulled his arms until Titus was forced to uncross them. He turned him slowly towards him, prying the sword from his grip. "I know a few things."

Titus didn't look at him.

Danas said, "I know that you are an excellent fighter. I know that you angry is a force to be reckoned with. I know that your tongue is as sharp as a sword." He wrapped his arms around Titus, pulling him close. He kissed his neck. "I know that you like it when I leave marks and pull at your ear."

Titus pushed him away. "That's the only thing we have between us-sex. No romance, no 'I love you's, no anything."

"I'll give you that. Whatever you want." Danas's eyes were open-honest.

"Why? Why do you want me so much?"

His lips tightened and for once, he looked down. "I don't know. I'm just… drawn, I guess."

"You guess?" Titus said flatly, crossing his arms again.

Danas made a small noise and uncrossed Titus's arms again. "I can't explain it. That's just another thing to add to the list of everything I've done wrong."

"I'm not the one writing it."

Danas hung his head, white hair falling into his face. "Give me another chance, Titus. Let me… let me stay with you-"

"In my room?"

"Mine. The bed is bigger."

"More room to fuck on?"

"Damn it, that's not what I meant!"

Titus resisted the urge to cross his arms. "We can't share a room. People will see. They will talk."

"Let them talk." Danas slowly pulled him closer, hands on his hips. "I won't hide what I feel for you."

"Lust?" Titus arched a brow but didn't give Danas a chance to answer him, putting his hands on his chest. "My family will kill me if they so much as suspect that-"

"So you're saying yes?" Danas bit his lip.

"What I'm saying is that if we try this, we'll have to be careful. Only trusted servants in your rooms, trusted guards. I'll leave before everyone gets-"

"I have my own wing in the palace that has the best training grounds. Better than these. You won't need to." Danas pulled him closer, wrapping him in his arms.

Titus scrunched his face. "They'll notice me not coming out of my room."

"They'll think you got up early to train."

"Camette-"

Danas's growl rumbled through Titus's chest.

"She goes with me whether you like it or not. She'll stay with the other servants, as a new recruit."

"Any other oppositions?" Danas grumbled.

Titus, for the first time in a while, smiled. "No, not that I can think of now."

Danas smiled back. "Can I kiss you?"

But he was already leaning forward, eyes on his lips, as Titus whispered, "Danas… ."

"Titus…."


	14. Chapter 14

Watery sunlight filtered through the curtains, the hazy grey of just before dawn. Titus blinked his eyes open, finding himself face to face with a broad chest. Danas was sound asleep, his face buried in Titus's neck. Titus was wrapped up in him, their legs tangled, blankets thrown only half-way over.

Titus blinked at Danas's chest. They had both been fully clothed when they'd gone to bed, Titus insisting they not do anything for a while.

He slowly lifted the edge of the blanket, peering under, and confirmed his suspicions. Danas was naked.

Titus blushed furiously. He poked his shoulder. "Danas."

Danas stirred only to pull Titus closer.

Titus squeaked, his nose somehow fitting between Danas's pectorals. The scent of cold and elder berries wafted around him. "Danas, I have to meet the warriors."

"Shh, it can wait." One of Danas's hands moved down his spine to squeezed his backside.

Titus jumped, and jumped again at Danas's morning arousal poking his thigh. "You don't have clothes on."

He felt Danas grin against his ear. "No, it's more comfortable to sleep without them."

Titus sighed. "I have to get up. You have to get up. We both have duties-"

Titus squealed as Danas suddenly moved, flipping him onto his stomach to hover over him and peppering kisses on the back of his neck.

Titus groaned, Danas's hand still clutching the flesh of his ass. "Danas, I have… I have… ."

"Shh," Danas said again, moving to slide on hand beneath his shirt and one over his crotch. He hiked Titus against him, sitting up so Titus was almost in his lap, legs splayed and at his mercy.

"Give me your wings," Danas ordered, unzipping Titus's fly. "Now."

Titus shook his head. "No, Danas… ." He took hold of Danas's wrist, leaning his head back on his shoulder. "Stop."

Danas didn't, growling again to give him his wings. His hand shot out of Titus's hold and into his pants.

"Stop!" Titus shouted and his power exploded. Night shuddered through the room, blinding and unending and surged off the bed, frantically fixing his clothes. His eyes were blown wide as moons. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Danas, his lower half obscured by the sheets, rubbed his face as the night slowly dispersed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Titus."

"I'm going back to my rooms." How could he be so stupid? He should have expected nothing less.

Danas reached for his hand but Titus was already gone, vanishing without a trace.

The daybreak was indeed exquisit.

Aralayn sat on a crenelation, watching the sun slowly battle away the night. Her wings fluttered behind her, catching the faint breeze that tickled them. She was taking the morning off from training to greet her cousin who would be arriving in a few hours. Until then, though… .

She spotted a figured on the horizon. No-figures. At first she thought it might be a flock of birds, but as they came closer she saw they were Thesan's aerial cavalry-or at least part of it-out for training. They zoomed passed, close enough to nearly knock her off of her perch.

One of them, however, broke off from the others, swooping elegantly through the air. Illyrians didn't fly like that-didn't soar like dancers across a stage. They moved like warriors on a battlefield-like her father, harsh and wicked and rough.

The lone flyer landed gracefully on a crenelation beside her, sweeping his large wings behind him. "Hello." His accent was thick as butter, edged like a knife.

"Hello." Aralyn looked up at him, folding her own wings.

"You are Aralyn Archeron," he said, "I am in your training."

She smiled. "I hope you are enjoying it."

He sat down, tilting his golden face to the sky. His hair was cropped short military style, the tight deep brown curls seeming to soak up the rising light His eyes, she saw when he looked at her, where striking gold like the new dawn. "I have to admit, you are a good trainer, but I find your people's style brutal."

"It's supposed to be brutal-it serves its purpose."

"I suppose it does."

"Who, may I ask, are you?"

"Forgive me." He stood only to bow at her before settling back down. "I am Woodrin, most famously brother of Rihat. You can call me RIn."

"Rihat? Isn't that Thesan's-"

"Lover, yes, and General. Quite the shadow to live in."

Aralyn nodded her agreement. She knew a thing or two about shadows. "I'll be leaving you now, I have to get ready for training." It was a piss poor excuse-she was already in her leathers. She stood, dusting off nonexistent dust. "Should I look for you?"

"Only if you feel inclined to." Rin stood as well, full to the brim with diplomatic grace. "I'll admit that I could use your training. I am not the best at handling a sword."

"You're lucky then," she said with a wolf's smile. "Because I am."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello, this is author.**

 **Bit of a short chapter here, I know I haven't updated anything in a while. Life is busy, you know? And my book has been taking a lot of my attention. I hope you enjoy!**

Titus, despite himself, went back to Danas's room that night, not saying a word to the prince as he built a pillow wall between them and snuggled down. Tiger had arrived today but she was too busy for him to grieve on her. Scholars followed her around the halls like a pack of dogs, worshipping her every word.

Titus felt Danas shift behind him and the pillows move from his back. An arm slid around his waist. "I'm sorry."

"Strike two," Titus whispered, closing his eyes.

They both awoke to knocking in the middle of the night, loud and insitant. Danas sat up, blinking slowly. Titus only pulled the covers over his head, glamoured it to look like he wasn't there, and went back to sleep.

When he awoke again, it was to a baby's cries. He blearily opened his eyes to find Danas clutching a newborn to his chest, trying to calm it. Titus moved off the bed, seeing the room as empty otherwise, and sleepily took the babe from Danas's arms.

"Shh," Titus whispered, bouncing and tapping the babe's bum to the beat of his heart. "Shh, you're safe, you're safe."

Slowly, the crying stopped.

Danas was gaping down at him. "How did you do that?"

"Who's baby is this?" It could have been more than a few days old, small and red skinned from crying.

"It's my little sister. My mother gave birth yesterday."

"Where are your parents?"

"Their taking a break from her-she's not the calmest babe."

"Her name is Rae, right?" He remembered Vivianne talking with Mor about it.

Danas shook his head. "They didn't think it fit her. It's Irene."

Titus smiled down at her. "She's amazing."

"She is."

Silence stretched between them, taunt as a bowstring. Danas finally said, "She's asleep."

"Shh." Titus carefully walked over to her crib placed in the corner of the room. Gently, so, so gently, he lay her tiny body down. He tiptoed back to the bed, lifting the comforter to crawl beneath it. He felt the mattress shift as Danas followed him in.

"Thank you," Danas whispered.

"They're coming to get her in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

More silence.

He felt Danas's arms slide around him a moment later, tucking him to his chest. "I love you," Danas said in his ear.

"No," Titus responded, "you don't."

Rin was shy in the ring, much to Aralyn's surprise. He fought like a decent warrior but didn't attack, even when provoked.

Just asa practice was coming to an end, she approached him, sheathing her sword at her side. "Would you like to go out to dinner?"

He looked up in surprise, as did everyone else around them. "I'm sorry?"

"Did I stutter?"

"N-no. I'm busy tonight, but tomorrow?"

Aralyn smiled. "Perfect." It was worth it to try for a date-it had been so long since she'd been on one.

Tomorrow, however, came too quickly. Aralyn was trying to get her wings through the panels of her dress when she heard a knock at the door. "Shit, um-just a minute!"

But the door opened of its own accord and Paris swept into the room with a, "I heard you were going on a date."

"Yes, help me out with this."

"Why don't you just vanish your wings?"

Aralyn paused her struggling. "I'm not an idiot." She vanished her wings, rightened her dress, then called them back. Rearranging her short black hair, she whirled back to Paris. "How do I look?"

"Absolutely fabulous."

Aralyn grinned.

Another knock came on the door, making her whirl. She opened the door just as Paris winnowed away and leaned against the frame.

She looked Rin up and down, her smirk not leaving her lips. "Well, what's the adventure tonight?"


	16. Chapter 16

Camette, unsurprisingly, did not know how to handle a sword. Titus was about to stick it through her stomach by the time they finished practice. When she wasn't holding it wrong, her stance was wrong. When her stance wasn't wrong, she was swinging it wrong. When she wasn't swinging it wrong, she was losing her balance under its weight. When she wasn't losing her balance, she was holding it wrong.

Titus sighed, running his hands through his hair. "You're done for today. Let's get some lunch."

She smiled brightly. "Can we eat in the library?"

His brows lowered as he hung their practice swords on the wall. "Why would you want to eat in the library?"

She shrugged, twining and untwining her fingers. "I like the scholars and the hall is very loud."

"Yeah, we can eat there. I'll tell a servant to send our food there instead." He grabbed his shirt from where he'd thrown it on the bench, shrugging it on. "My cousin should still be there if we can catch her."

So they went, winding their way through the palace to arrive at the not-so-grand library doors. Tiger was indeed inside, writing up a list for a young scholar who wouldn't stop staring at her breasts.

"No, no. You see, if you look in the back-"

"I already looked in the back!" pleaded the scholar.

Tiger let out a frustrated sigh and flipped through the book, landing on one of the last pages. She pointed to a spot on the page.

"Oh, you're so smart," the scholar whined. "So much smarter than me."

"Yes. Now, I have other things to attend to." She snapped the book shut, striding away.

The boy gaped after her, sputtering and red-faced.

Titus slowly raised his brow at his cousin. "Trouble?"

"I have maybe three intelligent students and the others are all born from cows."

He laughed. "I'll take your word for it. Shall we eat here?"

She nodded looking over Camette where she mouthed titles of the books on the table. "She is illiterate?" Tiger asked him.

"I don't know,"' he admitted, gesturing a servant over. "Bring us enough lunch for four."

"You're boytoy joining us?" Tiger teased when the servant darted off.

Titus sat at a table, eyes still on Camette. "No, but I didn't have breakfast so I have no guarantee how much I'll eat."

Camette came to take her seat, clutching a children's book. Titus tried and failed not to glance at it-that conversation could come later.

"Have the prince made any advances?" Tiger asked as their food arrived, steaming on the table.

Titus slid two cod onto his plate, focusing carefully on the task. "He has."

"And?"

"I am sharing his room."

"Titus! Idiot!"

He winced. He could deal with lectures from his parents and his aunts and uncles, but it was Tigerlily's disappointment that stung the worst.

He was about to defend himself but a messenger arrived, bowing to both heirs before she passed Titus a letter.

He saw the seal of his court and hesitated. Had his parents reconsidered their decision to bring him here? Maybe one of Azriel's shadows had seen him with Danas. He had been here for barely a week, it was impossible for them to call him back now.

Titus broke the seal, slipping the letter from its envelope. It was Rhysand's pretty handwriting.

The paper crinkled slightly in his hands.

As he read the last line, he carefully folded it and replaced it in the envelope. He said to Tiger, "Rhys is ordering us to keep Camette under strict lockdown for the next three days starting tomorrow."

"What?" Tiger and Camette said in unison.

"Azriel's spies just found out about a visit from the Spring Court that we had not previously heard of. Tamlin wants to solidify relations with Winter and introduce his court, which he didn't want to bring to the last High gathering. They're still trying to figure out why."

He wasn't supposed to tell them that, being trained by Azriel himself, he was to gather information in meetings and warded places the spies couldn't.

After the letter was safely in its envelope, he ripped it in half. Then in half again. Then misted it. He supposed he could have done the last of those things first but he felt like the dramatic effect was necessary.

"I'll just have to figure out how to tell Danas I need to get Camette an actual room, not a servants one."

Camette was blushing hard enough that he glanced over at her.

"You have an idea?"

"I could, um, just stay in your-Dana's-room. That way you can keep an eye on me."

Titus stroked his chin. It would keep Danas off of him for the time being. "I'll make it work."

"Why are we doing this? What about Tamlin's court does Camette have to keep away from?" Tiger asked.

"All of it." Titus was looking at Camette, again cataloging the features he knew belonged to two of his parents monsters. "No one can know she's here."

No one can know who she is.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"Camette will be staying in here," Titus announce as he and Camette strode through the door to Danas's room.

Danas, at the desk, stood so suddenly his chair rocked back. In his movement, he knocked over a glass of water, spilling it all over the papers he was working on and thus spoiling them. "Titus," he breathed. "What?"

"I want Camette in here. Some of the other maids have been bullying her so she can stay in the study until I talk to them."

Danas's icy eyes flashed between them. "Which maids have been bullying her?"

"Neither of us are good with names-that's why I'm speaking to them when I have the time."

"Why not speak with them now and get the matter taken care of?"

"Because I'm hungry and I have to greet the Spring Court-which you did not tell me would be coming."

"How did you find out the Spring Court was coming?"

Titus gave him a look.

Danas sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Fine. I'll get a maid to fetch a cot."

Titus gave him a smile, not a thank you. "I'm going to the dining hall, would you like to join me?"

Danas raised a brow at the invitation. "Of course I will."

"Good. I'm going to get dressed. Camette," he said as he walked towards the changing curtain, "fetch me my finest tunic."


	17. Chapter 17

Titus had seen Tamlin a select few amounts of times. The High Lord and Lady meetings he was allowed at, the male usually kept to himself, without an entourage or friends.

One meeting in particular, Tamlin looked like he was stewing in something nasty. At a break, Titus had risen to speak with him, offer some kindness in court perhaps, but his mother, noticing his stare, dragged him back into his seat.

"Do not speak with him," Nesta had hissed.

"Why-"

"Just don't."

He stared for a long moment then shifted his gaze to Tamlin, who was already focused on him with a predators intent.

Titus would have to be a fool to be unafraid of what simmered in those green eyes.

Now, Titus faced them again as he strolled with all of his father's arrogance into the hall. He let a little bit of night black smoke ripple beneath each of his footsteps. Neither of his parents may have had the magic that Rhysand was famous for and it still boggled the historians why Titus and Aralyn did. But Titus suspected that they retrieved their magic from the night itself. From, perhaps, their parents loyalty, deeper than the roots of the Sacred Mountain and more vast than the stars themselves.

Titus offered Tamlin the barest dip of his head, even if, as Heir, he should have bowed.

Vivianne and Kallias each offered their greetings, the former still weak from childbirth. Danas, behind them, clutched King's hand, the babe Irene safe in her nursemaids arms. Servants lined the walls, all shuffling meekly at the arrival of a new court.

"We welcome you," Kallias said formally, and introduced his family even if they had already met.

Tiger tilted her head as she looked over the High Lord. "I am Tigerlily Vanssera, future Heir of the Day Court."

No one mentioned that Vanssera was an Autumn Court name.

Titus, having no one to introduce him, introduced himself, "Titus Archeron, Heir of the Night Court."

Tamlin smiled softly. "You are the viper's boy."

Titus hadn't expected that smile. Was it mocking or pitying? "Yes. Nesta is my mother."

"It's nice to finally speak with you. May I introduce you to my son and Heir, Ion."

A servant stepped forward from where he'd been hidden by the others. No, not a servant. He was tall wiry, a bit of bramble stuck in his dulled blond hair. His eyes were a plain brown, face relatively average.

There was absolutely nothing grand about him.

Camette's brother? Titus wondered. He would have to be older, maybe twenty-one or two. Was he Amarantha's child too? Or perhaps someone else's….

"It's very nice to meet you," Vivianne said with a shaky smile.

Ion didn't smile, just looked to his father coldly.

Everyone seemed to shift awkwardly around.

"Who, pray tell, is your mother?" Kallias asked easily, glancing behind Tamlin for anymore of his court. No females that could give a clue.

"That's for a different time." Tamlin waved a hand. "Perhaps we can give our boys a chance to talk. They are the future, afterall."

He gave Ion a not-so-subtle shove towards Danas. Danas, nearly a head taller than him, smirked.

Tiger murmured to Titus, too quietly for the others to hear, "I don't think he agrees with the idea of a High Lady, still."

Titus snorted. As far as he knew, Elain and Lucien weren't having anymore children, leaving the future of the Day Court to a High Lady.

Danas was leading Ion away, leaning close to whisper something in his ear. Titus fumed slightly in their direction but hooked his arm through Tiger's, following them out.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Well?" Camette blurted as Titus peeled off his scratchy tunic. "What was he like?"

"The High Lord or the Heir?"

"Both."

"The High Lord was as much of a bitch as usual. Oh, wait, I'm not supposed to say that. He was nice and formal." He cracked a smile. "More seriously, though, your brother seemed kind of plain and I don't think he wants to be here."

"Plain? What do you mean by plain?"

"I mean he didn't look like a High Lord's son." He wriggled out of his pants, chucking them in a basket. "He's with Danas right now, doing Cauldron knows what."

Camette frowned thoughtfully. "You don't trust him."

"I don't trust anyone in this miserable court." He dug through his dresser, pulling out a much more comfortable outfit of Night Court tradition. "I'm going to eat dinner. I'll bring you some leftovers."

She nodded, taking a seat at Danas's paper-covered desk. "Have fun."

"I'm sorry, Camette," Titus said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'd change things if I could."

"I understand." She gave him a grim smile.

He threw on his clothes, glancing in the mirror at his hair. He paused there, considering. "Camette, can you hand me my sword?"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Titus strolled leisurely down the hall, hands in his pockets, a spitting image of Rhysand save for his one hazel eye and the Illyrian blade strapped between his wings. There were exactly nine minutes till dinner, giving him just enough time to stop at the library.

He went to the records, hoping there'd be something about what happened Under the Mountain, maybe a hint inside Camette's past-

"Fancy meeting you here," a voice purred.

Titus whirled, clutching the document he'd been reading to his chest. "Lord Tamlin. I wasn't aware you were here."

"Do you have an interest in history, Titus?"

The paper in his hands crumpled slightly. "Only to feed my boredom."

"I see. And what are you studying?"

Titus fidgetted. "I really hate to bother you with-"

"I insist. Perhaps I can help you find something of use."

Titus glanced around the library. They were alone. "I was only hoping to fill in the blanks on my aunt's story and what happened Under… Under-"

"Under the Mountain." Tamlin grinned slowly. "I believe I have a few recommendations. Come, boy."

There was a hand on the small of his back, just beneath his wings, to usher him along.

"You remind me much of her, Your Highness."

Nesta?

"Feyre was very dear to me, you understand. I am glad to see her happy."

Titus looked at him for what felt like the first time. This man was the embodiment of the word "hyperbole" based on the way his parents spoke of him.

"This is what you are looking for." Tamlin slid a book from the shelf, passing it to Titus.

But when Titus meant to take the title, Tamlin's fingers remained firmly latched onto it. "Tell her… tell her I'm still so very sorry. I hope she can forgive me. I hope we can be friends."

It took him a long few minutes as he made his way to dinner to realize he was talking about Feyre-not Camette.


	18. Chapter 18

**WARNING: This chapter contains mature content and scenes depicting rape that might be uncomfortable to certain readers. If you are one of these readers, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.**

"Titus, what's wrong?" Danas asked, his hand on Titus's thigh.

Titus rolled his eyes, pushed his hand away, and finished cutting his steak. "Nothing." For the entirety of the first course, Danas had eyes only for Ion, chatting away to the nearly non-responsive boy.

He had the audacity to put his hand back on Titus's thigh. "I can smell the lie. Tell me."

It was only them, Ion, and Tiger at dinner tonight, the High Lords and Lady eating in the great hall rather than this more intimate antichamber. Even the guards were posted outside the doors, not inside.

Titus glanced across the table at Ion and Tigerlily. Ion was as blank as usual, but Tigerlily was staring at something beneath the table. It took Titus a moment to realize there was a book in her lap.

Danas's hand slid higher, making Titus straighten. "Did I do something wrong? Is it Camette? Did she do something? I know you've been spending a lot of time with her-"

"Shut up. Just shut up."

"Who?" Ion spoke up for the first time, glancing between them with his dull brown eyes.

"Just a servant girl. It's none of your business," Titus snapped, then abruptly shut his mouth.

"So it is her," Danas accused, squeezing his thigh.

"No. Oh, Cauldron, just go care about someone else, Danas." Titus shoved away from the table, marching away.

Danas caught him before he could leave, wrapping his fingers around his elbow. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Titus-"

"Stop saying my fucking name!"

There was silence then, settling over them like a weighted blanket.

"Get your hand off of me," Titus whispered harshly, too quiet for the others to hear.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Let go!"

Danas dropped his arm like it was on fire.

Titus spared him barely another glance before marching back out, ignoring the bows of the guards and a passing chef.

He took the servants corridors, stopping in an empty hall where he collapsed.

He buried his head in his knees, trying not to cry, trying not to let that damn break.

He just wanted to go home.

"What's this?" a voice asked.

Titus didn't bother to look up. That was the voice of one of the servants, a gentleman who Titus had seen helping haul in truckloads of fish and other goods.

It was when the man crouched in front of Titus that he glanced at him. It took him a moment to take him in.

The servant had skin as dark as soil and hair cut close to his scalp. There were no weapons on him but, by his sheer size, Titus suspected he could drop a man with his fist alone.

The man arched a large, dark brow. "Broken heart?"

"No. Stupid heart."

"I see. Is there any way I can assist you, Your Highness?"

"Do you have a cure for stupid hearts?"

The man smiled softly and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Was it the prince?"

"How do you know?"

"A lucky guess. What can I get you, Your Highness?"

Titus wiped at his eyes before drawing himself up. "See to my rooms. Prepare them for me."

The man bowed and went.

Titus brushed off his trousers, finding his way back to Danas's room. Camette was sitting at the desk again, writing something.

"We're moving back into my rooms," Titus told her. "What are you writing?"

"Why are we moving back to your rooms?" she asked instead of answering, folding her paper.

Titus went to collect his clothes. "Because I'm done with Danas and it's probably safer for you. Help me with this and get your clothes too."

They stuffed the clothes into a trunk which Titus snapped his fingers, making it appear in the pocket realm. With that, he winnowed them into his room, finding that same servant straightening the covers of his bed.

The servant bowed. "Everything is prepared, Your Highness. Shall I fetch a cot for your guest?"

Titus glanced at Camette, realizing what this looked like. "No, she has one with the other servants in the antechamber. She is new, you see. I was only making sure she was acquainted with the area."

"Of course." The servant bowed and made to leave but Titus wasn't done yet.

"What is your name?"

"Atlas, Your Highness."

"Very good. Atlas, I thank you for your kindness."

His dark cheeks bloomed red. He bowed. "No, Your Highness. It is you I have to thank."

Titus dismissed him and collapsed onto his bed.

It was only then that he allowed himself to breakdown.

X-X-X-X-X

The next day, Titus plunged into his studies, and it was nearly dinner when Camette brushed his shoulder.

"Just a few more minutes."

"Danas is here."

His head whipped around to her. "Where?"

"Just outside. He's been there for a few hours."

"What time is it?"

"Five."

Titus scrubbed his face. "Let him in."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He scrubbed his face as she went to the door, not bothering with a shirt, or to get out of bed for that matter.

Danas slipped into the room, his silver hair rumpled. "Titus, oh Mother, I thought something happened to you-"

"I'm fine." Titus held up his hand. "Why are you here?"

"You didn't come to bed last night," Danas breathed as Camette retreated out of the room.

"I didn't want to. I wanted my own bed-by myself."

"Why?"

Titus gave him a flat look.

Danas didn't get it. "Did I do something wrong? You're looking at me like I'm an idiot."

"Of course you did something wrong!" Titus threw the books off him, leaping out of bed. He poked a finger into his chest. "You were flirting with Ion all day!"

Danas looked like he'd been struck. "I was not."

"Get out. Get out of my room. Get out of my life. I don't ever want to see your living face again."

"What the hell, Titus? What's gotten into you?"

"Ever since you entered my life, you screwed everything up. I'm not letting you fester with me any longer."

Danas showed his palms. "Please, Titus, just-"

"Out!"

His brows lowered. "You cannot kick me out of a room in my palace."

Titus rolled his eyes. "Oh, cut the shit. I don't want you here."

"I don't care if you don't want me here. You're mine, Titus." Danas's voice dropped as he took a few steps forward.

Titus held his hands up, matching him step for step backward. "Danas, stop. I'll leave myself if I have to."

He backed into the wall.

Danas braced his hands on either side of his head, leaning close. "I'm done playing these games with you."

"Let me go."

"I let you embarrass me in front of my own soldiers, then again at dinner last night. You owe me."

"Excuse me? I owe you not-"

He was cut off by Danas's lips on his, his tongue in his mouth.

Titus bit his lip. Hard.

Danas snarled, prodding the wound. "You need to learn to behave." He wrapped his hand around Titus's throat. Rings of ice pinned his wrists to the wall, his feet to the floor.

Titus's eyes flew wide and he pushed against his restraints.

Danas's hand started to squeeze while his other hand went to his boxers, cupping him through the material. "There's a good boy, nice and quiet."

Titus hissed but then there was a gag shoved into his mouth, tasting of salt and dirt-

This couldn't be happening.

Danas's restraints turned him around, jamming his face into the wall, keeping his hand at his throat-

Titus started to yell through the gag, panic breaking though any logic like water flooding a dam. White hot tears poured down his face.

Danas tore his underwear down his legs and smacked him, growling, "I was going to be nice to you today, but now… now, I think I'll do whatever I want. You deserve to be on your knees but I think you'd like that too much."

The shadows started to swarm, creeping into Titus's mind like ink.

"You brought this upon yourself. How am I supposed to control myself with you teasing me all week?"

Ink….

He pieced together his thoughts, ignoring the feeling of Danas moving behind him. Ink, blackness, smoke.

Winnow.

Titus instantly disappeared, reforming behind Danas.

Those tears continued to spill as he stared at him, mutely shaking his head.

He wiped his eyes and winnowed home.


End file.
